Welcome to the Marsh House
by Madam RedRose25
Summary: Read short stories of the Marsh family. Everything from Stan's biggest fear to Randy's next crazy idea. Too short for a story, too long for a drabble. But plenty of great family moments are sure to arise! Accepting ideas you may have for this.
1. Stan's Biggest Fear

_**WELCOM TO THE MARSH HOUSE**_

A/N: This was a spur-of-the-moment series I thought up of in hours. These will be Marsh drabbles although slightly longer than your average drabble since I love detail and simply cannot write a three-paragraph length story. I think it will be a fun thing to do, write little scenes I see in my head that aren't long enough for a story. And since I enjoy the Marsh family so, as you know by now, all chapters will focus on at least one of the family members. This chapter deals with a fear I see Stan having and in a way takes place just before the events of 'You're Getting Old'. Enjoy!

**STAN'S BIGGEST FEAR**

Stan was exceptionally dreading school today. That cold Wednesday morning meant only one horrid thing taking place in school- flu shots. A form had been passed out to all parents who wanted to allow the school to give them to their child for various reasons. It was easier, some parents were too busy to take their child to a clinic or pharmacy themselves, and there was less of a chance there would be struggle between child and nurse. At least that was the plan. Hardly for Stan however. He hated needles of all kinds and had his whole life. His mother swore by the statement she had tried everything to calm him of his fear ever since he was a baby and nothing ever helped. Stan had long since given up and swore by his own statement he was doomed to hate needles his whole life. In short, Stan's parents were one of the many who okayed for the school to give their son his flu shot this year.

"But why? This is so stupid! I don't need it. I don't _want_ it," he complained over dinner days ago.

"Stanley we've already discussed this, you are getting your flu shot at school and that's final," Randy said sternly.

"But I don't need it," he tried again.

"You do so. No one is protected against the flu. The shot is one way to prevent yourself from catching it. All of us are getting one, what makes you think you'll be the one singled out?" Sharon asked.

"Because I hate shots the most," Stan suggested.

"Stanley, you of all people do need it. There's a higher chance asthmatics can catch the flu and if they do it can be really horrible."

"You let me have a choice last year…" Stan had mumbled.

True, last year Sharon decided to bargain with her son. He could either risk catching the flu and not get the shot or suffer through a few seconds' poke and be safe the whole season. Eventually he did go for the shot because he knew how harsh the illness was on those with asthma. He had gotten the flu many a time in the past, the majority of the times did not do well with his lungs.

"Besides, this might be a good thing for you," Sharon had gone on. "All other times you had to be poked by a needle I was always there. This time I won't be and who knows, maybe you'll find out you don't really need me there for comfort when it's getting done. Maybe seeing how brave your classmates are will in turn make you calm about it too."

Yeah, right. He had an-almost phobia of the sharp things. It was not something that could be cured in one day. And now this Wednesday he had to face his fears yet again. This time without his mother's hand to squeeze. Could he do it? He had no choice, he was just afraid of looking like a pussy in front of everyone. His friends all knew of his fear but that hardly helped. Cartman still laughed, Kenny would always say 'they don't hurt dude', and Kyle, well, as understanding as he tried to be he still told Stan the same basic thing, 'stop worrying about something so tiny dude.'

At 10:30 it was time for the 4th, 5th, and 6th graders to go in to get their shots. They walked down to the gym where the vaccinations were taking place and Stan got in line where the fourth graders were. There were thankfully many kids in front of him but he still kept swallowing anxiously and his eyes were wide. Kyle, who was behind Stan rolled his eyes when Stan let out his tenth 'oh god.'

"Dude, calm the hell down. You're annoying me."

"You know how much I hate this dude!" Stan hissed back.

"Yeah but you're starting to look like an idiot. You're almost ten, you can't _still_ be afraid of shots."

"Well I am okay?" Stan bit. "We all have fears and shit, what makes mine any different?"

"Because a lot of kids don't get this freaked out about them."

"Yeah, it's just one of those childhood fears. Although I never had any," Kenny, who was in front of Stan, stated.

Stan crossed his arms; no one had his back with this. It wasn't fair. He was going to rip on Kyle's fears first chance he got now. The last of Miss Harper's class went and the first of Mr. Garrison's, Bebe, went up to the nurse giving the vaccines. Then it was Wendy's turn, then Jimmy. Stan poked his head from the line to see how many kids were in front.

"…four, five, six. Shit man! I'm six people away from _my_ shot!"

"Will someone please shut this pussy up?" Cartman, who was behind Kyle, rolled his eyes.

Kyle looked on as the line moved forward. He spoke to Stan.

"Dude, if it will make it any better do you want me to go first?"

Stan frowned.

"The line isn't in any particular order; it wouldn't matter if I went ahead."

Stan nodded mutely so Kyle cut in front of him. One more person who would go before him, it all worked out. Kenny soon went, then Kyle stepped forward and handed over his signed form.

"How are you today dear?" asked the forty-something woman as Kyle hopped on the chair.

"Fine. Just trying to show my friend here shots are no big deal," Kyle turned to Stan whose hands were in fists, jaw clenched, fear in his eyes for he knew he was next.

"Well let's show your friend here how quick and simple this is and he has nothing to fear."

Stan nervously held onto his hands as he watched his friend get the flu shot all under a minute.

"See sweetie? See how quick that was?" the nurse smiled. She patted the chair. "Why don't we try and beat your friend's time?"

Stan shook his head and took a step back.

"Oh for god's sake just sit dude," Kyle said.

Stan slowly handed over his form and took a seat on the chair, eyes still stressed with fear. The nurse scanned it and nodded.

"Okay Stanley, why don't we free your arm from your jacket okay?"

"Is it gonna hurt?" even though he knew the answer to this by now he still always asked.

"No sweetie, it's just going to be a little poke and will be over in five seconds."

"I'm afraid of needles," Stan confessed.

"Well I'm going to try and do this as fast as possible okay? But I can't take too long, there are other kids standing in line too."

"Just get it over with Stan. It really isn't that big of a deal."

Stan was able to take his jacket off but when the nurse put on the rubber gloves he had a mini-panic attack.

"Oh god, oh god…"

He flinched when he felt his sleeve go up. He was breathing quickly.

"You have to calm down for me and relax your arm Stanley, otherwise it's going to hurt more," said the nurse.

Stan tried to, he really did, but it was hard to focus when Cartman who was behind him was laughing, iphone out recording. His eyes went wider (if it were possible) when he saw her pull out the needle and took a disinfecting cloth from her little table.

"Don't do it yet!" he cried.

"Stan, calm down. I mean it," Kyle was saying.

"Yes, just look at your friend sweetie," the nurse said. Stan flinched as she swiped at his arm with the cloth. Now his eyes were following her every move, making sure he could track the needle at all times. "Don't look this way Stanley, just look at your friend." She gently forced his face to the front where Kyle was standing.

"Just look at me dude. We can go out for ice cream after school today if that's what you want."

Stan moved his arm away from the needle once before he willed himself to calm down. He drew in a deep breath and gripped his jeans with his right hand and looked at Kyle as he felt the nurse gently pinch his arm and stab it with the shot.

"_Ow_!" he winced. Seconds later the nurse was dabbing at it with another cotton ball and placed a band-aid over the dot.

"Okay honey, all done! Was that so bad?"

Stan frowned as he rolled his sleeve down. "Ohh, that hurts…"

Kyle shook his head, amused as he took Stan away from the chair.

"Man dude, I knew you had a fear of shots but I've never seen you get one. I didn't think it was… as bad as you always make it out to be."

"Can we just drop it? It's done," Stan said quietly.

"Hahahaha! Dude, dude! I got it all on tape!" Cartman hurried over a minute later, flipping out his phone.

"You- you _taped_ it?" Stan cried.

Cartman was laughing as he played it back for his amusement.

"Dude, get rid of it!" Stan ordered.

"No way man, this is pussy gold."

Stan was fuming even though he felt his face burn with embarrassment. "Just- can you at least not post it to anything? Like Youtube or whatever?"

"Fine, fine," Cartman rolled his eyes.

So he had a fear of needles. It wasn't that big a deal. Everyone had a fear and if anything, Stan thought his fear was very reasonable and justifiable. They looked scary, they were sharp, it involved those dreaded rubber gloves, and they hurt. At least he wasn't afraid of the common house fly or any other flying bug (for the most part) like Kyle was. So who was he to point and laugh? And at least his fear involved special treats after like ice cream when school ended. Kyle couldn't get a reward for using a fly-swatter. He had no problem telling Kyle this over their frozen treat.

"Okay I get it," Kyle groaned.

"Say it."

"Needles are a reasonable thing to fear," Kyle spoke.

Stan grinned in his Loaded Snickers Bar ice cream. If there was a thing to fear, his was a good choice. And as long as he continued to fear the sharp things, he would always look forward to the rewards that came after.

_Just a little scene I had to write last night. As you can guess by now, I have this weird fascination of medical-related things and have all my life. I love reading, watching, and writing it. So there is sure to be no end to medical references in my stories anytime soon. Like Tales of Toddlerhood, I am accepting any ideas you have on what scenes you would like me to write involving the Marsh family. Even if it was a small and random thing, please tell me what you think!_

_LoL (lots of love): Rose, January 10, 2012_


	2. It's Just a Oneyearold

**IT'S JUST A ONE-YEAR-OLD**

_A/N_: Originally this was going to be part of my 'boys as babies' story but unfortunately I cannot come up with many interesting ideas with them this young. They can hardly talk, don't know each other, and everyone else would be doing the action, not them. But I hope you like this one story I managed to come with. :-)

Five-year-old Shelley Marsh was having the most boring time of all as she walked down the floors of a party shop with her mother. At first she thought she had chosen the right choice. It was either stay at home with her dad or go out shopping with her mother. At home she would be surrounded by a crying baby; at least here she could be away from that for a little while. Although it hardly made a difference as she was still reminded of her annoying baby brother. Currently Sharon was busy buying all the items needed for her son's first birthday party which would be in a few days. She was overwhelmed by what items to choose, she wanted everything to be just right for her little man.

"What do you think your bother will like more? The airplanes or the cars?" Sharon was saying to her daughter as she held up party hats.

"Who cares?"

"I think the planes will be cute," Sharon answered her own question. She then gasped when she saw another theme. "Oh look Shelley! Farm animals! Ohhh, I wish I saw that weeks ago. Oh, it's too late to change the theme now; I already have other decorations at home. But I'll have to remember that next year for his second birthday."

"Can we go home soon?" Shelley whined.

"Shelley we just got here. We still need: napkins, paper plates, balloons, pick up the cake, and I'd like to buy Stanley one more gift," Sharon looked down a list in her hands.

"He's only turning one, he won't even 'member it's his birthday," Shelley crossed her arms.

Sharon frowned. "Well all of us will and we will be able to show him what a fun time it was when he's older with all the pictures and video. Every birthday is a special occasion that needs to be celebrated. And a first birthday is especially exciting! Once your brother turns one… he'll no longer be a baby. He'll move up to the toddler age." At this Sharon sniffed and dabbed an eye. Her little boy was growing up too quickly!

Shelley rolled her eyes again. She had a feeling her mother would be in tears at every one of her brother's birthdays. _Why_ was her stupid baby brother so special? All he did was cry, eat, and poop. Then cry some more. Over the hour Sharon had bought more airplane-themed decorations and was overjoyed when she found a special party hat for the birthday boy that was blue and had a fluffy rim and puff on top with I'm One! written in fun letters.

"It looks almost like the one you wore on your first birthday Shelley. Remember the pictures?" Sharon pointed out.

How many groans and eye rolls did Shelley have to do for her mom to get she did not care? The final trip of the day was to Henry's Market where Sharon picked up the cake she had preordered there for the birthday. She let out a very happy sigh and got that 'look' when she saw the dessert: it was a big round cake covered in white frosting with a cute image of a little smiling blue plane on it and Happy 1st Birthday Stanley! written in more fun blue letters. Perfect, everything was perfect so far. She couldn't wait until the big day, although as she explained, it would mean her son was indeed leaving babyhood behind.

"How was it?" Randy asked his wife when she came home.

"It was great; I got all I needed and maybe a tiny bit more. But it's all worth it for my little man, yes it is, yes it is!" Sharon smiled and touched noses with 11-month-old Stanley who was in his father's arms. He squealed with delight. "Shelley, help Mommy with the bags."

"I don't want to!" Shelley called.

"If you don't you have to watch the baby while your dad brings everything in."

Shelley went to grab the party supplies.

"Did I miss anything good?" Sharon asked as she went into the kitchen to put the cake in the fridge after showing her husband it.

"If you want to call a messy diaper something to miss, not really," Randy handed their son over to his mother.

Sharon kissed her son's plump cheek and caressed the little mess of thin black hair in the middle of his head.

"I think it's time to get you up to naptime Stanley. It's ten minutes passed and you look so sleepy…" Sharon went upstairs to place her son down for his second nap of the day and thankfully he didn't put up a fight. Three days. Three more days and he would be one. Where did the time go?

The night before Stanley's first birthday Sharon took extra measure to his bedtime. She added in more playtime during his bath and blew raspberries on his tummy as she placed a diaper on him. She dressed him in his darling fuzzy brown onesie that boasted a happy bear on the front and 'I'm huggable!' written underneath. Of course with any night there were the few challenges: doing a gentle swipe around his three tiny teeth to clean them and winding him down without any distractions. Every night presented those obstacles that wore Sharon out at times. She had to keep Shelley out of her son's nursery and now was walking the floor of the dimly-lit room, rocking her son as soothing music played from a CD player. Stan's eyes finally began to drop around 8:30. Sharon placed him in his crib and kissed his cheek.

"Goodnight my little angel. You're going to be one year old tomorrow and going to be such a _big_ boy." Stanley wiggled and made a little fussy noise. "I love you baby. I will see you in the morning. Good-night sweetheart."

Stan's first birthday landed on a Saturday so thankfully there would be more people available to celebrate. Those who would be attending were Sharon's parents, Randy's mother, the Marshes next door-neighbors and baby-sitters for the kids, the Heartons, with their fourteen-year-old son Jason, Sharon's best friend Abbie, four other close family friends with two other kids between them, and Shelley's best friend at the time, Jenny, just so she wouldn't be too bored. Sharon wanted to invite others but didn't think it would be best to over-stimulate her son. Plus it wouldn't be too fun anyway. It was more of a day of memories for the adults since Stanley would obviously not remember it. But it didn't stop Sharon from making sure the day was as perfect as could be. She was happy as is her parents could make it out. They had seen Stanley once before when he was just a few weeks old. But they happily took time off from work and life in California to come out and visit for one week. They arrived the other day.

October 19th Sharon brought Stan down for breakfast which consisted of his favorite apple and banana baby food and formula. Although the jar he was given was played with more than eaten. But Sharon spoon fed him while he enjoyed squishing his little fingers in the mushy stuff.

"Ahhhh! Eiihhaaaa mmmm!" Stanley babbled and splattered the floor with a fistful of food.

"No baby, we don't throw our food," Sharon said gently.

Shelley was glaring from her cereal. "How come if I throw food _I_ get a time-out but Stan _doesn't_?"

"Your little brother doesn't know right from wrong yet. Right now he's at a stage where he enjoys different textures and the baby food feels good in his hands. You on the other hand are a big girl and know not to throw things," Sharon explained.

Shelley was still glaring, hardly touching her Froot Loops. "You never put Stan in time-out though. He always gets 'way with stuff!"

Sharon frowned. "Don't say that Shelley. Your brother will be getting plenty of time-outs in a couple years, I promise you. But you can't punish a baby, they simply don't know right from wrong yet."

Little Stan began making whimpers as Sharon tried to spoon more food into him.

"C'mon sweetie, you have to eat a tiny bit more. You need to grow big and strong!" more fussing about. Sharon turned to her daughter. "Do you want to help Mommy feed the baby Shelley?"

Shelley was about to spit out 'no' but then thought of something. She smiled. "Sure Mommy."

At that moment there was a knock on the door. Sharon muttered about 'perfect timing' and left to answer it. Shelley looked across from her to see the round little face of her little brother, moving around in his highchair and sucking on his fingers.

"Hiii Stan. Mommy said I can help feed you today," she said, arms behind her back.

"Ahhhbababa!" Stan slapped a hand on his highchair and smiled.

Shelley grabbed hold of the jar their mother had been using and held it above Stan's head and slowly allowed the goop inside to plop down on his head. He let out a high screech and Sharon, who had been at the door with her parents, came hurrying forward.

"Shelley, what did you do?" she ordered, picking up her howling son.

"Just tryin' to feed him," Shelley shrugged.

Unfortunately for Shelley the whole day was devoted to Stan (more so). It was bad enough he was a baby so he automatically got everyone's attention. Every time he cried or whined someone came running. At age 5 it was considered not the 'big kid' thing to do to cry at everything. Shelley had tried the whole year her brother had been around but instead of getting more playtime with her parents she was snapped at. They were exhausted already from Stanley, he was very fussy. They did not need to hear anyone else wailing about something.

Very little happened leading to lunch. Stan had been bathed and dressed in a special outfit with a tiny t-shirt that said 'I'm one!' on it and he wore his blue birthday hat (as long as any toddler could before pulling it off and chewing on it). The guests were all there by now, each one wanting to see the birthday boy and hold him. There was a light lunch before Sharon put Stan upstairs for his nap. That's when Shelley and Jenny were able to play for an hour without baby cries and Shelley was able to get some attention again from the adults.

Sadly after his nap was a true test of annoyance from Shelley. When he was feeling more awake it was time for cake, something every parent looked forward to on their child's first birthday. Stan looked around worriedly in his highchair as his guests sung happy birthday to him and his mom held up a small cake with a wax one candle on it. She blew it out for him before presenting the dessert to him. Shelley rolled her eyes at everything so far. Stan poked a finger at the blue frosting covering the cake.

"It's food sweetie," Sharon smiled and swiped at the frosting and placed a dollop in his open mouth. "Mmmmm!"

Stan smacked his lips, his little tongue poking out as he tried to understand what this stuff was.

"Is this his first time trying cake?" Mrs. Hearton asked.

"Yes, I wanted to wait until his special day for him to try it," Sharon explained.

Stan's eyes suddenly went wide and he slapped at the cake in front of him to the laughter of everyone around.

"Not that funny…" Shelley mumbled.

"Ahhh! Gah! Gah! Ahhhbaba!" Stan cried as he squished his fingers around and stuck a frosting-covered hand in his mouth. More laughter.

"I think he likes it!" Randy smiled as he recorded everything.

"Eww! I don't wanna eat any of that!" Shelley pointed out the cake that was being destroyed by the second.

"That's what the one we picked up the other day is for," Sharon told her daughter. "That's our cake."

"You mean- Stan gets his own _cake_?" were her parents serious?

"Well c'mon Shelley; look at what he's doing to it. No way were we going to let him do that to one cake otherwise no one else will want a slice," Randy spoke.

"Abababa! Mmmmmaa!" Stan smiled as he tried feeding himself this delicious sweet stuff.

Sharon laughed. "Look at you Stanley! You have frosting all over! You're so silly baby!" Stan giggled. "You so silly baby!"

"Know who's going to be the one cleaning him?" Grandma Mara joked.

Shelley glared at her baby brother; he had frosting and cake on his hands, arms, face, over an eye… what was so cute about it? It looked gross to her.

Stanley's first birthday turned out to be the lamest party ever, at least for his sister. After making a big mess of his cake he was bathed again before it was time for presents. A lot of baby stuff. He couldn't even open the gifts or understand the importance of them! He was actually laughing about the ripped paper and crinkling it in his tiny hands than the toys!

"You're so _stupid_ Stan, don't you know you're supposed to play with the _ball_?" Shelley held up a colorful ball the size of his head.

"Gah!" Stan smiled and clapped his hands as he shuffled the paper with his bare feet.

"Stupid baby," she glared and was about to hit him but their grandparents were watching.

"Shelley, why don't you go set up one of Stanley's new toys and show him how to play with it while the adults talk?" Grandma Ellen offered.

Shelley had no choice but to show her stupid brother how to play with the toy Grandma Ellen took out of the box and set up; some lame fire truck you pulled with a string with all sorts of other functions.

"He doesn't even know how to walk yet, this is a waste of time," the little girl protested.

"He doesn't? Well it will be good practice still and I'm sure he can pull the truck when he crawls."

Stan made little fussy noises as he looked at his sister, fingers in his mouth.

Shelley sighed. "Push one of these buttons Stan." She led his hand to where round buttons with the alphabet were on the truck.

"S! Can you say S? S! Sssss!" the toy rang.

Stan looked confused.

"See Stan? That letter means S. it's what your name starts with. Also mine and Mommy's," Shelley pointed out.

"Ahhhh… ammmaa mama."

Shelley hit the T next, then the A and so forth until she had spelled out STANLEY.

"…and it all ends with a Y. Got that Stan?"

Stan just gave a gummy smile and went back to chewing his fingers. Shelley sighed; why did it take forever for a baby to learn anything? Thankfully the party guests soon began to leave. The grandparents stayed around though and after Stanley took his second nap Randy seemed eager to get his son walking, well, wanted to at least. He held onto Stan's hands as the boy pushed the floor with his feet but as soon as he let go Stan flopped down.

"He'll walk when he's ready, don't force it love," his mother said.

"He's one now Mom, I want him to get a head start at all the things other toddlers his age do." He got Stan up again only to watch him fall to his side and begin to cry.

"For goodness sake Randy just let it be. He'll walk when he wants!" Sharon took her son in her arms.

"Shelley was already walking by her first birthday!" Randy exclaimed. Shelley smiled proudly.

"Son, you're going to have to hear this from someone, might as well be me," Sharon's father spoke. "Once you have another kid you can't start comparing them. Each will learn at their own pace. Sharon's brother talked before he walked, her sister walked before she talked, and Sharon here took her time with both, well into fourteen months of age!"

Sharon rolled her eyes.

Stan let out another long whimper before babbling, "Mamamamama."

"See? Little Stanley here's already talkin'!" Mr. Kimble chuckled.

Thankfully by dinner a lot of the focus of her brother's first birthday was wearing off. Shelley's mommy was getting frustrated since Stanley didn't want any solids for dinner and was screaming for milk. And by eight it was time for bed. Sharon had Stanley dressed in green dinosaur footie pajamas and sighed after the daily/nightly struggle of cleaning his three tiny teeth. Stan was currently in his mother's arms, sucking on a pacifier. As Shelley made her way up with Grandma Ellen to get ready for bed, Sharon stopped her daughter.

"Shelley, do you want to say anything to the baby before he goes to beddy-bye?"

Shelley frowned. "You told me he's not a baby anymore."

"Right, right. I'll have to break that habit. Well? Do you?"

Shelley looked at the chubby cheeks of the now twelve-month old Stan. "Don't keep me up tonight dummy."

Sharon shook her head and went back into her son's nursery. "Big sissy meant to say 'happy birthday'."

"No I didn't…" Shelly muttered as she overheard.

Sharon rocked her son in her arms and hummed while gentle music played from a lamb-themed CD player until Stan's eyes began to droop. At that moment her mother tip-toed in.

"Not too late to say good-night am I?" she whispered.

Sharon smiled and shook her head no. The grandmother kissed her grandson after his mother did and he was lowered into his crib and covered up. The two women looked on lovingly.

"I can't believe he's already a year," Sharon stated.

"Time sure does fly by. But look at him; he's such an innocent little angel already. He'll be a real charmer with the ladies in fifteen years, you'll see," Grandma Ellen winked.

"Oh sure, he cries and gets upset so easily," Sharon rolled her eyes. "I hope it's not a predecessor for his personality in the coming years."

"Don't stress about it Shari, he'll grow out of it."

She knew it didn't really matter, and he was still so young. Her son was indeed so beautiful and perfect already and she couldn't wait to see him grow. Her mom was right; he was a sweet innocent angel. Things would only get better and easier from here…

_Aw, who enjoyed little baby Stan? I may do a few more when he's two and under when the ideas come. Review, and keep sending idea suggestions. There are some good ones already!_

_LOL-Rose, January 13, 2012_


	3. A Little Fire Power

**A LITTLE FIRE POWER**

_A/N__: This follows the line from episode Chef Goes Nanners, spoken by Cartman: His (Stan's) Mom grounded him once for setting something on fire. Find out what that something was and lie and say it was a puppy! So, what could be that something? _

What a lame and boring Saturday this was turning out to be. It was one of those everyone-was-going-to-do-his-or-her-own-thing days. Kyle was at some lame computers and technology convection with his dad in Bailey, Cartman had been an ass Friday so he wasn't available for play to anyone. And Kenny had died and had yet to come back. So Stan was left to be bored at home, hoping at any minute someone would walk in his room with a fun activity. But no. The only exciting thing that seemed to have happened so far that day was Stan finding his favorite pen that had been missing behind his bed. Stan lay flat on his stomach as he flipped through the TV channels. Nothing was on. Sometimes lazy weekend afternoons were boring, not something one should wish for. The eight-year-old now lay on his back playing with his gray socks on his feet by taking them almost off, his toes pulling them down. Finally he decided to see what his mother was doing since she was the only one who might offer ideas. His dad was out drinking and his sister… ha, wasn't going to happen.

"I need something to do," was the first thing Stan wined to his mother when he spotted her in the living room.

Sharon rolled her eyes as she paused with the blanket she was knitting; no parent liked hearing their child complain about being bored.

"I'm pretty sure you can find something to do Stan. Enjoy being away from school and stay out of trouble."

Stan blinked. "That's not good enough."

Sharon frowned. "Then explore something. The attic or basement, I don't know. As long as you stay out of trouble!" she repeated.

Stan thought a second before deciding he'd go to the basement and see what was there. He would try to have his own adventure today and explore the regions of the many things stacked inside the cold area under the main house. He quickly found a green hat with a feather and a sword he hadn't seen in months. With those two things he felt happier already.

"What's Captain Marsh going to find today in the Legend of the Deep?" he found boxes of Christmas decorations and boxes full of young childhood relics. Nothing new. A motorized spaceship Randy had tried building for him a year ago but failed. A few old crafts from when he and Shelley were little too. He frowned, hoping to find something worth his interest during his treasure hunt. He then spotted a box sort of tucked away against the shelf. "What's this?" he dragged it to him and got on his knees to see what was inside. He opened it to find a lot of random items; he didn't know what to look at first. "I think Captain Marsh found the mother load!" he exclaimed happily and pulled out what seemed to be a pink horse. It was a My Little Pony toy Shelley had owned when she was little. He then took out what looked to be Sparky's old food dish. Random. He moved aside a few things to reach for a little hand he saw poking out. He pulled the toy out and gasped-

"Oh god, Slappy the Clown?" It was a toy clown with a striped red and yellow outfit, big red shoes, and a rather ugly plastic head and red grin. Stan's grandmother had given him the toy when he was three and it had scared him from the start. It always looked so creepy, he never played with it and in weeks asked his mother to hide the dreadful toy from him. He hadn't seen it since he was in kindergarten by now. It still looked as daunting as ever. He shuddered and set it aside. He found a few more pleasant items: old books. Dumbo, Cinderella, and Aladdin. They were in fairly good condition save for a few pages here and there with crayon scribbles on them. He loved when his mom read him these books during bedtime. He set those aside before searching some more. All in all the one box was filled with a mismatch of items that had been owned and used by someone in the family. He loved finding things like that, it brought back fun memories. By now he had the majority of the items spread on the floor.

"'Pretty good find indeed Captain Marsh. I thought you'd never find me!'" he made an old plastic toy elephant of his say.

"Why thank-you Bamboo. Shelley told me she had thrown you in the dumpster all these years. I should have known she was lying!"

"'What do you think you should do with everything now?'" Bamboo asked.

"Good question…" Stan rubbed his chin. His eyes fell upon a few select old things. Ugly old things that had no purpose being in this house any longer. The things associated to lame memories. He wanted to just throw them away but that would be boring. His eyes then traveled to Bamboo the elephant.

"'I have a sweet idea you could do…'"

"What?"

Stan had the toy whisper something in his ear. His eyes went wide. "What? No way dude, I'd get in trouble!"

"'You wanted to do something exciting today didn't you?'"

"True…"

"You've done it before. This time it will be on a bigger scale. C'mon, no one will know. Your mother is too busy up these stairs and no one else is around. Wouldn't it be a fun way to get rid of this junk?'"

A grin spread on Stan's face. "I'll do it." He began sorting through the things. First thing to go would be Slappy the creepy Clown. Then two of Shelley's My Little Pony dolls. Another creepy figure of some figure from Asia that his dad had owned, a couple used t-shirts, a tiny plastic dog he never liked, an old Barbie doll, some princess book in great condition he knew Shelley never read in her life. Last to go-he was sure his mother would not miss that faded plastic cup from Santa Barbra. He shelved all the 'keepers' before putting Bamboo in his pocket and coming back up.

"Have a good time in the basement?" Sharon asked her son as she sat on the couch, still knitting up a blue-patterned blanket.

"Huh? oh, yeah I guess."

She glanced at his box as he made his way to the stairs.

"What's that you have there?" she was talking to him but looking at her work.

"Oh, just…stuff."

Sharon smiled with the thought this was just another little boy wonderment of kinds and he went up to his room, box in arms. Stan took off his captain outfit now and frowned as he thought. The thing he wanted to do included something he was not allowed to do which was work with fire. He wasn't even allowed to use the stove without an adult nearby. But how would he be able to get a lighter of some sort without looking suspicious? And his mother was still downstairs, she might be able to catch what he was doing easily. He sat on his bed for ten minutes before he heard his mom call his name. He jumped and hurried down the stairs where she stood, looping her purse over her shoulder.

"Stanley I was looking through the fridge and realize I'm missing a few needed ingredients for dinner tonight. I have to make a quick run to the store, do you want to come?"

Stan opened his mouth then shut it. "Naw."

"Are you sure? I thought you wanted to get out of the house for a little while today."

"It's okay, I found something to do."

Sharon raised a brow. "If you come I'll let you pick out a treat."

"It's okay Mom. I still have plenty of Oreos and a box of Pop tarts that needs to be opened to snack on."

Her son never denied an open invitation to satisfy his very prominent sweet tooth so this was odd.

"Are you _sure_ you'll be okay home alone?"

Stan nodded. "Sure."

Stan wasted no time searching for matches as soon as he heard his mom's car leave the driveway. He knew she hid those little things on purpose but it was time to find them and burn his junk all under thirty minutes. He knew he could do it. The logical place to start looking was the kitchen but would it be in such an obviously place? He pulled out the drawers there every day. No, best try his parents' bedroom. Stan searched under their pillows and bed before digging in a little fancy box by their TV stand. His fingers closed around a set of matches. Grinning, he grabbed the box on his bed and hurried outside. It was fairly cold at the moment; his breath didn't linger in the air anymore but he still shivered. Hoping to do this quickly before his mother came back, Stan dumped the things on the wet grass. He placed Bamboo the elephant away and took hold of Slappy the Clown first. Stan set it in the middle of the yard and held a match, ready to strike.

"So long Slappy, may you never frighten another child again." He struck the match and threw it at the toy. The flame was slow at first but steadily grew. "Wow, cool," the boy smiled. He checked his watch. His mom may be back in ten minutes. He quickly gathered a few other things and began lighting more matches. The flames grew and grew and Stan couldn't help but gaze, amazed at what he was doing. This was so cool; he couldn't wait to tell the guys at the bus stop on Monday. He was on his knees now, pushing at the fire with a stick. "You were right Bamboo, this was a cool idea." The elated feeling he was getting did not last much longer after. He nearly jumped out of his skin when he heard a screech from behind him.

"_Stanley Marsh!"_

"M-Mom!" he gasped.

Sharon stood at the back deck, hands on hips and look of utter anger on her face; she looked as if she were going to blow up where she stood. "What in the _hell_ do you think you're _doing_?" she cried.

"I- I can explain"- Stan fumbled, but it was too late, he was corned. No way to run free now.

"Why the hell are you lighting things on fire?" she screamed as she came closer.

"I- it was, I just"-

Sharon roughly took hold of his wrist and pulled him up. "You are in so much trouble young man! Using matches! How stupid are you?" she dragged him to the deck, told him to stay put before she took out the hose and watered the fire down until it was out. She then took hold of his arm again and pulled him inside and had him face her. "What on earth were you _doing_ Stanley?"

"It was just something to do…" Stan knew how stupid that sounded.

"You wanted to stay home so you could do this? Start a fire? Did your weekend plans involve burning down the house?"

"N-no…"

"You know you aren't allowed to use fire of any source! You know how dangerous it is! I cannot believe the stupid things you do sometimes Stanley. Always getting in trouble." She rubbed her eyes. "Go to your room; don't come out until I say. _Go_." Stan may have gotten away with just the punishment of using fire but when Sharon had a better look as just what he had set on fire her blood boiled once more. Two hours after finding him in the yard with matches Sharon opened his bedroom door to show more distaste.

Stan was on his belly doing nothing when she walked in, box full of burned items.

"What the hell were you thinking burning these things?"

Stan shrugged. "Looked like junk to me."

"This wasn't junk! These were items I was saving up for a yard sell Stanley!"

Stan's eyes grew wide. "You- you were?"

"I had saved them for years, thinking they may still be wanted but turns out nobody cared about these things anymore. I had them tucked away in the basement for a yard sell. You lost me money young man. How does that make you feel?" Sharon demanded.

"To be honest, I thought it was junk. Slappy that evil Clown was in it and who would want a creepy old clown doll?"

"Lots of people would Stan. Collectors. Kids who actually like clowns."

Stan moved around nervously. "Sorry…"

"I cannot believe you Stan, setting valuable items on fire. You're eight years old! You get in trouble all the time! What makes you think I'd allow you to use matches?"

Stan honestly didn't have an answer to that.

Sharon glared as she took hold of the box of now useless items. "You are grounded Stanley for one month. No TV, no special treats or trips to the pet store or movies for one month."

"Aw-aww! But Mom…!" he was on the verge of a battle of complaints.

"And I'm going to find a better hiding spot for the matches, somewhere I know your little hands won't get to them." She left the room, box in tow. Why did her son have to go against every rule she set? Why did he never listen? He could be such a sweet and selfless boy very regularly, but he had such a bad rule-breaking streak… it was hard to see one side of his when the other took over. She sincerely hoped Stan would show up later that night making his bed, making her hot chocolate, and listening like a good little boy then maybe she could believe he had an angelic side to him. But for now…

Knowing she would have to throw out these burnt items now; Sharon set it aside to hide the matches. She looked around for a few seconds before a dark smile pulled at her lips. She went over to her dresser and pulled out the first drawer and dropped the matches on top her underwear. "I don't think he'll ever be brave enough checking in here…" Sharon sighed as she went down to the trashcan outside; another day gone by with dishing out discipline to her son. It never ended.

_Now there are many number of things Stan could have set on fire. This was just one thing that worked out so I went with it. It's fun to write that child-like imagination and play-acting we don't get to see often in the show. These stories aren't meant to really have a plot; they are just little things I feel like writing. I hope you still like the idea though. I have a handful of ideas in my head as to what to write next so stay tuned._

_LOL (lotsoflove)- Rose, January 20, 2012_


	4. Going Through the Motions

**GOING THROUGH THE MOTIONS**

_A/N_: This takes place in present-time, January 2012 and is a pretty average day for Sharon. Read on!

Beep. Beep. Beep. Sharon's eyes fluttered as her alarm went off at 6:30 that Thursday morning. She took a little time to wake herself up enough to get her day going. She rubbed her eyes and yawned before sitting up and stretching a bit. Randy was still breathing deeply away to the right of her. Then again being a busy mother and woman in general it took her longer to get herself ready. She wrapped her usual purple robe around her before going downstairs and putting some coffee on. It was a cool morning; it looked as if fresh snow had fallen during the middle of the night. It wasn't a heavy fall but it looked to be at least several inches deep. That was fine; it gave her an excuse to wear the new boots she got for Christmas. As she stood around waiting for the coffee to brew she looked through the entertainment portion of the morning paper, just to do something. At that moment she heard pining at the sliding door to the yard and saw Sparky standing there waiting to be let in.

"We had no idea it would snow last night boy, I'm sorry," Sharon spoke as the mutt hurried in. The coffee was almost finished when Sharon began thinking of the past breakfasts of the week so far. She accounted for one serving of French toast way back on Sunday, two bowls of cereal, and a serving of frozen chocolate chip waffles. She sighed as she fished out the skillet; time for her son's second French toast breakfast of the week. If he didn't eat two plates of them each week, well, it was best she kept up-to-speed when it came to such matters.

Randy came down the stairs minutes before it was seven and served himself coffee before popping in some frozen pigs in a blanket things into the microwave and opening up the newspaper. Minutes after seven the sound of two sets of feet came down the stairs and fourteen-year-old Shelley and ten-year-old Stanley took up a spot at the round breakfast table.

"Are you making French toast?" were the first words spoken out of Stan's mouth that morning as he scratched his dog behind the ears.

"Yes. Is there any special way you want it?"

Stan took a moment to think.

Sharon sighed; she didn't have time for the wishy-washy way a child made decisions. "You can either have chocolate French toast with regular milk or regular French toast with chocolate milk. I'm not making a full-on sugary chocolate breakfast today Stan."

"I want… regular toast with chocolate milk."

Sharon looked on at her family; Randy thankfully taking care of his own breakfast needs, reading the paper, Shelley eating a bowl of microwavable oatmeal and going over her homework, and Stan waiting for his food, reading a comic book. As soon as the mother set the hot plate of food down she quickly got out the milk and Nesquik and made a glass for her son. He began digging in hungrily (after dousing a good amount of syrup onto it).

"Hey Mom, can I have a banana?" Stan asked.

"Can I not eat breakfast for a little while?"

"Fine."

Minutes into the meal Sharon began asking around. "Shelley, I left five bucks on the table over here for your lunch today."

"Thanks Mom."

"And Stanley, did you make your lunch ahead of time last night?"

"No."

"Why? You told me you wanted to make lunch last night!"

Stan shrugged into his breakfast. "Got too caught up playing Skyrim last night. Can you do it for me?"

Sharon wanted to pull out her hair. "No I will not. I'll just give you lunch money for school."

"But I don't _want_ what they're serving today. It's hotdogs."

"You love hotdogs."

"Yeah but last time it made me sick for the rest of the day. It made a lot of kids sick. They say they fixed the problem but I'm never eating the hotdogs at school again," Stan said looking defiant.

"Stanley I don't have time to fix you lunch, I have to get ready myself!" Sharon spoke.

"Please Mom?"

Sharon still did have to make a bagged lunch for herself for work today; she could probably do two lunches in record time if she tried. A half hour later she was dressed but still needed to do make-up. Her son was watching an early-morning showing of Spongebob while she fixed his lunch.

"Do you want PB and J or turkey and cheese?" she called.

"Turkey!"

She made up two, one for him and one for her. She was proud at how fast she had did it. Stan had come into the kitchen looking at his lunch bag.

"I don't want a banana for snack!"

"You just told me you wanted one for breakfast!"

"Well ya, on my French toast. I don't want one for lunch."

"Oh for goodness sake…"

"We don't have any more goldfish left?" Stan looked into the pantry.

"No."

Stan came out of the pantry with a rainbow-colored candy cane in hand.

"Stanley Quintin you are not having a candy cane for lunch!" Sharon spoke.

"But it's from Christmas and needs to be eaten before it goes bad."

Sharon dabbed at her forehead. "If you want to make your own lunch do it now because I am really running behind."

"No, you do it best."

A few minutes later Sharon handed over his Dark Knight Lunch bag. "Turkey and cheese, peach cup, string cheese, Chocolate Chip snackcake, and a bottle of Sunny D. Happy?"

"Yeah, thanks Mom!" he opened his lunch only to call back to her as she went upstairs. "Hey Mom! You didn't add in an 'I love you' note!"

"You know I love you Stanley, now get your shoes on and catch the bus! And don't forget you're going over to the Heartons' after school until I get off!" Sharon hurried up the stairs. 8 AM was always a mad dash in the house. Everyone had to get their final items together in order to make it to school and work on time. Randy hopped in his car to make it to the office by 8:45, Shelley started school at 8:20 while Stan started at 8:30, and Sharon couldn't be later than 8:30 at Tom's Rhinoplasty for she helped open the office by nine. Sharon did a sweep of the house before she left to make sure everything was safe and in order. She sighed when she spotted a shine of silver in the bathroom; Stan had forgotten to clip on his medical alert necklace that morning. She sincerely hoped she wouldn't be getting a call from the school nurse or the hospital saying her son had suffered a major asthma attack. She could only pocket it and run out the door and get to work which thankfully was only five minutes away.

"Made it just in time," fellow co-worker and friend Kathryn smiled upon Sharon's arrival.

"Never have kids," Sharon exasperated as she set her things down.

Kathryn laughed. "What happened now?"

"So my son tells me he'll make his own lunch last night only to leave me to do it for him this morning! He was 'too busy' with a video game. And the lunch I was preparing wasn't good enough for him. But I got it right in the end… seriously, kids…"

Kathryn was still smiling.

"From the moment you bring your baby home from the hospital he will expect you to do everything for him."

"I'll keep that in mind but I still want children when I find Mr. Right."

The two chatted as they prepared for the morning. Just as nine hit a stocky man with a strong chin and rich black hair came into view.

"Sharon! Thought I heard your voice," Dr. Tom said.

"Sorry I'm running a little late."

He waved this off. "You're a good employee, don't worry about it. You girls ready to set up shop as they say? I'm expecting Mrs. Cullers to pop in anytime; her nose hasn't been healing like she was promised so I have to look into that first thing."

Sharon made sure her little station was orderly before she felt ready. And the day began. Mrs. Culler did indeed show up first with a very swollen nose. Kathryn took her paperwork and she was called in by Dr. Tom. It was actually a nice slow morning and for the first time since she woke up Sharon felt relaxed. She took in phone calls and by twelve, business was getting heavier. Thankfully Tammy Bretts had come in for her shift and took up the third chair in the receptionist area allowing Sharon to get some lunch. She felt guilty having Kathryn stay behind and work but she didn't seem to mind, she would get her lunch break a half hour after.

"I have everything under control. You have nothing to stress over," Tammy was saying. "In fact, I'm sure I can take care of most of that paperwork you have piled on your desk!"

"I'd rather you not touch my work, I can do it myself Tammy. Thanks." Sharon never really liked the forty-something dark-haired woman; she liked to pretend she could do everything her own and take on other people's work. But it didn't matter; she didn't need to start up anything. Stark's Pond was only five minutes back around her house so she decided that would be a nice place for lunch today. Before she ate however she called Shelley on her cell as she did every day, just to see how her day was so far. She was happy she had her lunch the same time as her daughter.

"Hi sweetie, how has your day been so far?" Sharon asked.

There was a groan at the other end. "_Mom_, how many times do I have to tell you don't call me at school?"

"I just want to see how your day has been."

Another moan. "I'll tell you at dinner when we usually talk about our days. Nothing's happened."

Normal response from a teenager so Sharon brushed this off. "How was first period? You told me how difficult that biology test would be. Was it?"

"I'll tell you _later_. I want to eat lunch and talk with the few friends I have."

Sharon frowned. "Well, okay. I'm sorry Shelley. I'll see you tonight then."

A second later she hung up. Sharon sighed as she began unzipping her lunch bag; all she wanted was to keep in touch with her daughter during the day. What was so bad about that? She knew it was normal for a fourteen-year-old to act this way but she hoped in a few years' time when her son started Jr. High he would be a bit happier to talk to her during lunch. She would be giving him his own cell when he began seventh grade, and he was the sweeter of the two, surely he'd respond better to phone-calls from Mom. Then again Stanley already had a lot of friends and would no doubt meet more when he turned thirteen as he explored his many interests. He'd probably be just as embarrassed when his mom called him at school. Sharon shook her head as she began her sandwich; kids would be difficult no matter what age they were.

That half hour Sharon enjoyed seeing the ducks swim in the large pond and two young mothers with their toddlers at the picnic table next to her. She smiled sadly as she heard the little boy call 'Mommy' several times as they ate lunch and the little girl of the other mother play with a large stuffed pony. They reminded her a lot of her own kids; Shelley always took along a pony or horse when she was little and Stan never seemed to tire of pulling on her leg and saying 'Mommy' again and again until she saw what it was he wanted. Sharon got up to throw the crusts of her bread to the ducks in the pond and was met with the little boy.

"The duckies like when you throw bread to them," Sharon told the darling little boy. He giggled.

"I want bread"- he raised his hand up.

Sharon looked over to where the boy's mother was and she smiled as she walked over, indicating it was okay to talk to her boy. Sharon knew she only had five minutes left before she'd be risking a talk-to from Dr. Tom but these little kids were too cute and at that moment was reliving what it felt like to be around little kids again.

"You seem to really enjoy kids. Do you have any yourself?" asked the boy's mother as she picked up her three-year-old.

"A fourteen-year-old girl and ten-year-old boy. I used to come here and feed the ducks with my son when he was this small all the time. I just find myself falling into those days where I wish they were still little like Jack and Bree here."

"It is fun but I actually can't wait until my daughter reaches those ages, then she'll be able to do things for herself," spoke the little girl's mother.

Sharon had to smile. "Hate to break it to you but they never grow out of it. You'll find yourself doing everything they say well into those tween years."

She really had to get going now. Waving the four of them goodbye, Sharon drove back to Tom's Rhinoplasty. She immediately apologized to Kathryn when she walked in for she had come in seven minutes later, forcing her to wait until Sharon had come back so she could start her lunch break.

"I saw the two cutest little kids at Stark's Pond. I was talking with their mothers. They were precious," she whispered.

Thankfully Kathryn was so easy-going and said it was fine, she would have done the same thing and left with a smile. Sharon took over a load of paperwork for the best of three hours in her small office near the surgery rooms. Any reason to not be around Tammy, and thankfully April had come in and took over the reception area. Paper work was always tedious, she would put on her reading glasses and squint at Dr. Tom's writing trying to figure out what was written on these forms. Why did every doctor have horrible writing? Practically ever prescription ever filled out for her children had horrible slantly doctor writing on the prescription forms, she was surprised the pharmacists were able to decipher the writing any given time.

It was now four and she would be getting off in an hour. She made a quick call to the Heartons' home to make sure her kids were there. Her son always seemed to be over at a friend's house or anywhere else for that matter but this time she was pleased to hear he had listened for once and was at his baby-sitter's. Sharon still had a lot of paper work to sort through, label, and place in folders and the cabinets that held patient records. There was no way she'd be able to get through it all now. Sure she could have used Tammy's help now but she was too proud when it came to her job. Sharon was too committed and did not like it when another woman took over something she had been planning to do. She didn't want to do paperwork tomorrow but if she had to she would.

There was a knock on her door and Sharon looked up to see Dr. Tom standing there.

"I think you've worked hard enough today Sharon. Your shift has been over for five minutes now."

Sharon smiled and got up; glad her hand could finally be freed of the pen that was in it.

"I'll see you tomorrow doctor," she told the man after gathering her things.

Dr. Tom smiled and nodded. "See you. Just try and take a thirty minute lunch break tomorrow, not a forty minute one."

Sharon looked guilty but promised it wouldn't happen again. She hopped in her car and drove home, knowing she had to get dinner ready as soon as she set foot inside. She pulled up to her house before walking over to the house on the left to pick up her kids. Middle-aged Barbra Hearton talked of how there were no troubles and both kids arrived there as expected and Stan finished all his homework as well. The minute walk back to the house Shelley complained about why she still had to go to the Heartons after school.

"It's only for a couple days a week. I know you're old enough but I just don't trust you watching your brother for three hours while your dad and I are still at work," Sharon explained.

"I'm old enough to stay home after school too!" Stan claimed.

Sharon sighed. "I know you are but I don't trust you sometimes Stan. I don't like it when you go to a friend's house without telling me or land yourself in Washington again. I want as much control over those elements as possible."

Stan rolled his eyes.

"You're still a child, you're still in elementary school, and therefore I don't feel safe having you stay home alone for more than an hour. You know this already, why are you making it a big deal?"

Her kids went up to their rooms to put their backpacks away before they both came running down and shouts were heard as they fought over the TV.

"You ALWAYS choose!"

"Because I get tired of watching the lame Animal Planet channel every night!"

"Well it's a lot better than anything on the Travel Channel! Why would I want to see some guy visit France and have all the fun?"

"You have your own TV stupid turd!"

"So do you bitch!"

A crack soon was heard as well as a cry from a child. Sharon sighed as she set her pan on the stove.

"Kids _please_…"

"Oww, it hurts…" Stan held his upper arm.

Sharon took a peak at it. "You're fine honey. Shelley, apologize to your brother this minute."

"Only if _I_ can choose what to watch on TV."

Sharon knew this was not an argument worth starting so instead, she said, "Stanley, do you want to help Mommy in the kitchen?"

Stan looked up. "What's for dinner?"

"Pork chops."

"Okay," Stan shrugged.

Randy came home before six and the family sat down for dinner by 6:20. Shelley frowned as she picked at her mashed potatoes.

"These taste like crap."

"Shelley! Your brother made them so be kind," Sharon snapped.

"I know, that's why they taste so bad."

"Shut-up!" Stan glared.

"Randy tell your daughter to behave at the dinner table," Sharon said his way.

Randy poked at his potatoes too. "I dunno Sharon; she kind of has a point. They're pretty lumpy and I think he added in a bit too much salt."

Sharon went to taste her portion and made a slight face which of course did not go unnoticed by her son.

"Aww man they _are_ shitty," Stan moaned.

"It's okay sweetheart, it was only your second time making them from scratch."

"And they suck! I just wasted four good potatoes and made crap with them."

"It's okay Stanley, we all make mistakes," Sharon tried.

"It's not okay Mom, god! I thought I was doing everything right but I messed it up. Now I know why they say you have to taste as you cook."

"Stanley"-

"Just drop it Mom, you won't make good potatoes out of these shitty ones if you keep talking," Stan mumbled.

Sensing where this dinner may be heading Sharon went to ask how everyone's day was. Shelley told of how hard her biology test was and how annoyed she was she had to buy her friend Samantha a Pepsi at school since she didn't have another quarter. Randy spoke of some rock he was studying that flew over everyone's heads and Stan had his latest silly fight with Kyle because apparently he wasn't really excited about the new Dark Knight Rises movie coming out this year.

"He always does this to me. Purposely starting Batman vs. Spiderman wars! He knows how much I love Batman and how I'm seeing the movie opening day yet he has to bring gay Spiderman into the mix who is so overrated. I mean it's Batman! Why does everyone like Spider or Superman over him at school?" Stan looked around.

The night was filled with silly complaints of the day as was normal. Sharon brought up how she had seen two sweet toddlers at Stark's Pond but Randy looked shocked.

"You spent time playing with two strange kids instead of going back to work?"

"My goodness Randy you know Tom hardly cares. And I came back at a decent time, Kathryn wasn't upset at all."

Thankfully everyone settled down after dessert and the night was beginning to feel calm and nice for once. Shelley went up to her room to finish her homework while Stan tried sneaking in another slice of the apple caramel cake.

"Out of the kitchen Stanley," Sharon, who was on the couch said.

Stan walked to her. "How'd you know it was me?"

"I can recognize my kids' distinct noises through anything. Honestly, was one slice not enough?"

"I don't get how he's not chubby," Randy spoke as he flipped through the channels.

"Oh he may not be flabby physically but the evidence shows up in his teeth," Sharon said darkly. "No sweets after eight, you know this young man. Go upstairs and do something quiet before you get ready for bed." And Stan retreated.

Randy chuckled. "I swear that kid has a bigger sweet tooth than you and I never thought that could be possible."

Sharon raised a brow. "I don't think you'd be laughing if I showed you his dental bills."

Randy smiled before kissing her. "You seem kind of busy-body today hon. Why don't you pick what to watch on TV? I'll go make you some tea."

Sharon smiled and relaxed into the couch; moments like these didn't happen often but she was glad they had come. And any night she was able to watch HGTV without getting annoyed grunts from her husband the better. It was after nine and Sharon went upstairs to tuck her son into bed and read to him. He may have turned ten a few months ago but he still loved their special bonding moments. Sharon fluffed his pillow and pulled his covers up. At that moment his brand-new kitten he had gotten for Christmas hopped up and he held her close. Sharon pulled out the book she had been reading to him- a Wild at Heart book and sat on his bed. It may have been made by American Girl but these books were his secret guilty pleasure. They were chapter books full of detail and kids around his age volunteering at a vet clinic and helping animals along the way. The one she was reading now, Homeless was the first in the series and one of his favorites. It was about feral cats and trying to find the cat of the vet clinic's owner.

Sharon finished the chapter a half hour later and set the book aside. Stan had tears in his eyes.

"It's so sad how they wanted to put down Tiger. I'd do the same thing Sunita did and fight for him even if he was a feral. It wasn't his fault she was bit."

"So if you had the chance you would rather go through rabies shots than to let a feral cat that probably will never live a happy life, live?" Sharon challenged.

Stan stroked his kitten Basha's head. "Yeah. It would be selfish of me to not get shots just because I hate them and have a cat die. That's horrible."

Sharon smiled down at her son; he was such a sweet boy with such a big heart. There was no doubt his main calling in life would be animal related. She just couldn't wait to find out what exactly he would be doing in that area. Stan gave a great yawn.

"Mom, sorry about rushing you this morning."

"What's that?"

"I think I rushed you today. I think I made you annoyed with me all day."

"Sweetie I wasn't annoyed." He raised a brow. "Okay, so I was just a little. Did you know you left your medical ID necklace in the bathroom? Sorry, it's okay hon, it comes from being a mother. I'm always going to feel rushed and will have a list of things to do. For the next ten years, I promise you."

He seemed to think this was good enough and shrugged. Sharon kissed his temple before exiting his room. It was now close to ten and she went to make sure her daughter was getting ready herself. Shelley was in bed when Sharon stepped in. She looked troubled.

"Something wrong hon?"

Shelley glared. "I don't want to say but I will. (_Sigh_) I kinda feel horrible about what I did to Stan earlier before dinner."

"Oh?" Sharon leaned on the doorframe, arms crossed.

"I left him a pretty nasty bruise. I didn't think I hit him _that_ hard."

"So are you saying you apologize?"

"No. He deserved it. I'm just saying it looked painful."

Sharon smiled, she knew what she was really thinking. "Okay then. Goodnight Shelley. I love you."

By 10:30 Sharon had gone into her bedtime pattern and fell into her pillow smiling.

"Why are you so happy?" Randy asked.

"We have great kids Randy."

"Oh, oh, yeah. Sure we do."

So they loved to make the day difficult but Sharon could count on their natural sweetness to come out when the stars did. And that's what made coming out of bed and running around each morning something to look forward to.

_That was fun. I have no idea if Stan would be into Skyrim, I just know it's a popular game now. I myself was a fan of the Wild at Heart books when I was around Stan's age, Homeless was my favorite. I see it as one of those secret things he enjoys, we all have them. Also, I have worked in another way Stan could have gotten his cat Basha. This time as a Christmas present in 2011. I just do not see Stan without a cat by age 10. Anyway, more to come soon!_

_LOL: Rose, January 23, 2012_


	5. You May Not Like What you are About to H

**YOU MAY NOT LIKE WHAT YOU ARE ABOUT TO HEAR**

_November 3__rd__, 2011_

_Dear diary,_

_I received some devastating news this afternoon. Seems as if all I get these days is bad news. That, or I'm delivering the bad news to someone else. I don't know how it happened to be honest, today was such a normal day. The kids woke and got ready for school, Stanley walking with his head low of course and picking at his breakfast. But they left to catch the school bus and I left for work thinking it was going to be any other normal day in my 'new life.' Instead I received a phone call from my son's school telling me I had to come in when school ended, there had been a problem. I get so nervous and upset when the school calls! What did Stanley do now? Was he hurt? Sick? They always seem to tell me once I get there when I want to know now. Anyway, I told Dr. Tom I had to leave work early to meet with my son's school and he thankfully said it was okay._

_The first thing I noticed was Stan sitting in a chair in the principal's office, eyes looking at his feet as has been. Principal Victoria was there as well as Mr. Mackey and Nurse Bronski. My emotions turned from frustration to worry._

"What happened?" I asked, taking a seat next to my son.

Mr. Mackey cleared his throat. "Well, you see Mrs. Marsh, there was a- a small incident that happened this morning in Stanley's class."

_I nodded, hoping it was something like an asthma attack. I was actually wishing breathing difficulties for my son over any new news!_

Mr. Mackey looked at Principal Victoria now. The blonde woman sighed, hands folded on her desk. "Apparently your son caused a disturbance as soon as class started. From Mr. Garrison's statement, while the students were discussing HPV vaccinations in class, Stan had a sudden outburst and screamed in class. He said the 'F' word."

I looked over to my son, mouth open. "Stanley…"

_Stan appeared not to know what was going on for he had not moved at all except blink._

"So, so okay, he had an outburst in class. But what does that have to do with, well, you?" I turned to the school nurse.

Miss Bronski sighed. "Mrs. Marsh, we think there is more to your son's behavior than meets the eye. His little moment in class this morning and then, well…Mr. Mackey?"

"You see, Stan was sent to see me after yelling in class, mmkay? I tried talking to him; understand why he did what he did mmkay. tried to get some reason in his head how- how I know he's probably pretty upset right now with the recent news of you and your husband, but he can't let it control him. He got upset and started saying how he wanted things to go back to the way they were and how nothing makes him happy anymore. He feels like his whole life is shit," the councilor explained.

Tears formed in my eyes as I placed a hand on Stan's shoulder; he shifted slightly. "Baby, baby why didn't you tell me these things?"

_Stan shrugged and mumbled something but I couldn't understand it._

Principal Victoria took over. "Listen where we're getting at Mrs. Marsh… we're really concerned with young Stanley and how his behavior has been lately. He seems to be very distant with the other students, doesn't get along with them. Seems to be in his own world."

_I nodded, still full of fear for what they were saying._

Mr. Mackey sighed this time. "Listen Mrs. Marsh, we think we sort of goofed. You see, it's been a popular statement for years now that flu shots cause certain problems in children who receive them. We- we may have been one of those schools…"

"What are you getting at?" I frowned.

Miss Bronski looked troubled. "There's no easy way telling you this Mrs. Marsh but we think… your son may have contracted Asperger's Syndrome from his flu shot weeks ago."

_I was not expecting this at all. It seemed so random, almost like a joke. I wanted it to be at least. I thought I would be shocked but instead I shook my head, trying to understand._

"Wait a minute, are you trying to tell me you think my child may have contacted a mental disorder from his flu shot last month?" I had my hand on Stan's shoulder.

"We understand that you may be a bit upset Mrs. Marsh," Principal Victoria stated.

I shook my head again. "But I don't understand… how is that even possible? He's gotten a flu shot a handful of times in the past and never had any problems or complications from it except a sore arm. This doesn't make any sense… how can you put a label like that on my son so quickly?"

_I'm one of those who is a firm believer that shots do not cause disabilities and illnesses in children. It's a silly concept. I have read so many articles as to why it is false. Who were these people to suddenly say Stan had gotten an illness from a needle?_

"Trust us Mrs. Marsh, we are professionals mmkay?" Mr. Mackey said.

_I was trying hard to bite my tongue; I already knew he wasn't the best child counselor. Stanley had gone to him plenty of times in the past with little to no results. But I trusted the new school nurse, Miss Bronski. She is a lot more attentive to the children and listens to them and knows when to spot a faker. She has been terrific in handling Stan's asthma flair-ups during school and was diligent in pulling an extremely loose baby tooth of his one day months ago as gently as anyone could. She's a good woman but at that moment I was wondering how much she knew about childhood health matters at all._

"You do understand why I'm a bit skeptical about all of this right? I need proof my son has a- a problem…" I glanced at Stan who was still looking down, eyes half-open.

"We understand Mrs. Marsh. This isn't news any parents wants to hear. But after what happened today and how your son has been for a couple weeks now, we are starting to get worried and have every right to wonder if there isn't an underlining mental reason this is happening," Principal Victoria spoke.

"But to jump to a mental problem? Caused by a _shot_? I'm sorry but I'm finding this hard to accept…" I pinched the bridge of my nose.

"There are cases out there children can get ill from a shot," Mr. Mackey said.

I shook my head, mouth open, again not believing. "No. No. He's never had any problems. Those cases are false. Proof. I want _proof_ something is wrong with my son or I am taking him out here right now and dropping this silly conversation!"

"He's having trouble communicating with his classmates," Mr. Mackey explained." It's hard for him to communicate with others. Not to mention odd behavior. We've all seen him walk with his head low every day, hands in his pockets. Doing the same things every day mmkay. Not- not changing his rituals. Not to mention how gifted he seems to be at some things. Everyone always says how good at baseball and football he is mmkay. And he's really good at guitar even though he just started not even a year ago. Children with Asperger's tend to be very talented in some areas."

Again I rubbed my eyes. "But those are normal for Stan. He's always had talents and interests and been good at them. He's not… obsessive about them." Was he? He did know pretty much everything needed to be known about baseball and football and was picking up the guitar quicker than most kids did. But they were normal. Interests. All they were were interests, every kid had them. I didn't find anything odd about my son at all; he had been this way his whole life!

"We know what we're talking about Mrs. Mash," the principal said.

"But I know my son. I _know_ my son," tears welled in my eyes as I looked at his expressionless face. "Isn't it possible he may just be depressed? I- I was looking into asking his pediatrician about that."

"It could be more than just a case of depression. Please, get your son evaluated for this first." I had never seen Mr. Mackey look so serious before. This talk was now becoming more emotional for me to handle than when I had come here last year after my son had been diagnosed as a level III hoarder. That thankfully is factual although he is trying to overcome it to this day.

_And there you have it; the school thinks my son has Asperger's Syndrome. From a flu shot. Ridiculous. They gave me a pamphlet with information regarding the disease as well as directions to the Asperger's Research Center an hour away. I had no choice but to call and make an appointment for my son. They will be evaluating Stanley on Monday at 1:30. Stanley did not talk much at all the drive home. I asked what he thought and he just shrugged._

"Really sweetie, do you really think something might be wrong with you?"

Another shrug. "Wouldn't be surprised."

I glanced at him as I drove. "If something were wrong you'd tell me right?"

Stan sighed. "Yes Mom."

_It was such a quite night tonight diary. Shelley had little to say during dinner and when I told her of her little brother's possible diagnosis, she almost looked upset about it, as if she were worried. _

"Shit always seems to happen to you," was all she said.

_Stan did not talk at all since we drove home. He picked at his chicken noodle casserole before walking off to his room. Even though I know my son is very unresponsive and sad at this point I am still making it a priority to tuck him into bed. I can't help but feel so sad for him as I walk into his little room in this new apartment knowing he would much rather have a bigger space for all the toys and games and items he has. There are still four boxes stacked on a wall. One day we will find room for his things; it will tear me to pieces if he's forced to sell or throw away some of his things. It isn't fair to him. His eyes were wide as I pulled the covers over his shoulders._

"Sweetie, are you going to be okay?" I asked him gently.

_He didn't answer right away, just have a tiny shrug._

I pushed him more. "I know it's a scary thing, you may have an actual mental illness…"

_Stan sniffed and rubbed his nose but his face remained blank._

"But that doesn't mean- that doesn't mean this is the end. Let's just say they do find something wrong with you at this Asperger's Research Center. Then that means we can move forward in your recovery and get you the help you need so that you can feel like yourself again. Stanley…?"

"This isn't what I need right now…" he said ever-so-softly.

"I know baby. Nobody needs this. But we have to do this. It's just like any other problem. You get the feeling something may be wrong, you go to the doctor. He runs his tests, talks to you. Does his thing. Gives out his suggestions and medications and soon you're back on your feet again. Just like that baby."

Stan shook his head and turned to his side, back to me. "More than that Mom."

_It's hard enough to convince my son of certain things when he isn't feeling so down so I stopped trying to get him to see it from my POV. I got to my feet._

"Try to get some sleep. I love you Stanley."

_I kissed him and walked out the door. And here I am an hour later writing in you diary. I'm scared and I do not need the added stress of my son having a possible mental disorder. From a routine flu shot nonetheless. It's such a scary thought. What if there is something wrong with him? What if the theory or wherever he's going to Monday turns out to be bad in one way or another? It will be going against everything I stand for. Vaccines do not cause illnesses in children! I'm so anxious now, but I have to remain calm for him. He may be silent now but I know deep down Stan's scared too. I'm going to close for now. All I can say is I hope Monday goes okay enough for us. None of us need any more shockers._

_Love,_

_Sharon_

_A/N: Just another thing I saw in my mind and thought would be interesting to write. I have my next idea in mind and still have others to do too, but still keep sending in those ideas! I'm updating frequently since these are all very short. _

_LOL (lots of love): Rose, January 27, 2012_


	6. The New Babysitter

**THE NEW BABYSITTER**

A/N: Misspelled words are intentional!

It was just after five on June 10th 2009 and Sharon and Randy were currently scrambling around the house getting ready for their special 13th wedding anniversary. While Sharon had taken a shower Randy dropped off eleven-year-old Shelley at her best friend Krissa's house for the night. He hurried back to take his shower after. It was now close to six and Randy came down the stairs fixing his tie. He spotted his seven-year-old son Stanley playing a video game on the TV.

"Don't you think you should turn that thing off by the time the babysitter comes?" he said raising a brow.

"But I just completed the seventh level! I just got to get 2,000 coins and can see what's inside the Golden Castle!"

"Would you rather have me to tell you to turn it off or Mom?"

Stan sighed and frowned but got up to turn the system off. A minute later Sharon came down wearing a new purple dress she had picked out a week ago for the special day.

"Do you think Mommy looks pretty in her new dress?" she asked her son, striking a pose.

"Yeah, you look pretty Mom," Stan smiled. Sharon touched his head before going into the kitchen getting her bag ready and talking to herself.

"I hope I have everything written down for the babysitter. I don't have time to add anything and she should be here in less than ten minutes!"

"Mom, who's going to baby-sit me tonight? Will it be Mindy?"

"No sweetie it's someone else."

"Who? I like Mindy."

"It's a new young girl. Her name is Whitney. She's seventeen and lives in South Park. She hasn't done a lot of babysitting but I was referred to her from your friend Butters' parents."

Stan rolled his eyes. "Butters isn't my friend Mom, he's gay."

Sharon sighed. "She also sat for Clyde Donavan and Heidi Turner, other classmates of yours correct? She sounds really nice. Plus it's time I give the Heartons a break. I hate relying on them all the time to watch you kids."

"Whitney? I don't like that name, Whitney," Stan made a face.

"You'll like her I'm sure of it," Sharon passed off. Just then there was a knock at the door and she went with Randy to go answer it. Stan stayed behind at the dining room with a comic book in hand. "It's great to meet you," Sharon was shaking hands with a teenage girl with frizzy blond hair and casual clothes. She also had a backpack over her shoulder.

"Our son is around here somewhere- Stanley!" Randy looked around. Stan sighed and dragged his body over to where his parents were. "Stan this will be your babysitter for the night."

Stan looked up at the high-schooler. "Hey," he said simply.

"Hello, I'm Whitney," she held out a hand but he didn't shake it.

Stan wiggled his leg in the way a child did when something was unfair. "Dad, can't I just go to Kyle's tonight?"

"We want you in bed and asleep when we get back. We don't want to have to pick you up somewhere after we go out."

Sharon began going over everything with Whitney, showing her the main parts of the house before taking her into the kitchen. "I have all the emergency numbers written on the fridge. This number is my cell, this one is Randy's. This is the restaurant we'll be at and this is the show we'll be seeing after. This number is the Harring's where Stanley's sister is staying at if you need to call them about something. The Heartons are our next-door neighbors and take care of the kids all the time. If you need to call them this is their number. They'll be happy to help if you have any questions. And of course if there's an emergency, call 911," Sharon explained with a slight smile.

"Okay."

"Oh, and Stanley had moderate asthma like I told you over the phone. You said you never had to deal with anyone who has it so I wrote the instructions on how to use his nebulizer right here"- Sharon showed her a sheet. "If he's coughing, out of breath, wheezing, his stomach is pulling in as he breathes, refer to this. I wish I had time to show you how to use the machine but I don't. If you have troubles Stan will be able to show you how it's done."

"Okay," the girl nodded.

"There are several options for dinner. There is a frozen pizza in the fridge. There are also meatloaf leftovers if you want that instead. You can order take-out food if you want, there's a twenty on the counter there. You can help yourself to anything in the fridge. What else? Oh, make sure Stanley does not eat any sweets after eight and make sure he takes a bath by 8:15 and is in bed by nine. Don't worry about making a mess; I'll clean it up tomorrow. Well, I think that may be it!" Sharon sounded out-of-breath herself.

Stan stood by the door to have his parents kiss him goodbye.

"Be good for the babysitter okay honey? I love you," Sharon kissed his temple and Stan looked on as his parents got into the car, pulled out the driveway, and left the street.

"Stanley? It's kind of cold out, do you want to come back in?"

Stan turned around to see his babysitter feet away, smiling. Shrugging he went back into the house. The two stood there looking at each other for a few minutes not saying anything.

"So… what do you want to do for dinner?" Whitney asked, arms crossed.

Stan blinked. "I dunno."

"Well when do you usually have dinner Stanley?"

"6:15. And you can call me Stan."

The teenager grinned. "Well it's almost that time now. Why don't we pick something?"

"My mom makes great meatloaf. We can have that. But I want something fun for dinner."

"Well why don't we look in the phonebook? Your parents left a twenty for take-out."

Stan made his first smile at her and nodded. The two poured over the phonebook before resting on All-American Cookin', a little place in South Park that sold homemade food at great prices. A half hour later Stan was digging into creamy macaroni and cheese and Whitney was enjoying a cheeseburger. It was then she decided to break the ice and know a little bit about this boy. He was really cute from what she saw so far, big blue eyes and that toothy little-kid smile. She wondered if he had that classic little boy haircut too.

"So… tell me Stan, what grade are you in?"

"Well I just finished second so I'll be going to third in September. You?"

"I'll be a senior in high school this year."

Stan frowned. "What's that mean?"

"A senior is the highest grade level in high school. It's grade twelve."

"_Twelve_? Wow, you're _old_."

Whitney chuckled. "Yeah I guess I kinda am." The two ate in silence for a little while longer before Whitney decided to speak up again. "So what's your sister doing tonight? Apparently I only have to be in charge of you."

Stan frowned as he drank from his Pepsi. "She's at a friend's. Her name is Shelley. She's four years older than me and is evil. She does so much stuff to me. I hate her."

The teenager was a little shocked at this response. "Oh, okay. Sorry to hear that."

"Do you have any brothers or stisters?"

"I have a younger sister but only by a year so we're really close and have gone through everything around the same time. Wish you had a better relationship with yours though kid."

Stan shrugged as he finished his macaroni. "I'm seven now and been wishing she'd be nicer all my life. I don't think she's gonna change now."

By now it was close to 7:30 and Whitney wanted to make sure she didn't over-stimulate the child before he had to start getting ready for bed. At that moment Stan had gone upstairs and came back down with a toy in hand.

"Do you like Batman?" he asked excitedly.

Whitney had to chuckle at his cute face, mouth full of missing and half-grown in teeth.

"I've never really gotten into super heroes Stan."

Stan however didn't seem to be upset by this. "That's okay. I can get you into Batman then. He's the best. He drives this"- he held up the toy in hand. "It's the Batmobile and is super cool. His sidekicks' Robin and he lives in Gotham City and fights the bad guys."

Whitney nodded, pretending to be interested. "Um, do you have any other ideas? Let's not make it too messy since you have to start getting ready for bed in an hour."

Stan thought but held out a small hand for her to take. "Let's go to my room"-

Whitney had the boy lead her to his room which, not surprised, was covered in all things boy-related. A Hot Wheels track was set up and three boxes of Legos were out. Four figures were already set up on his dresser and there was a small mess on his bed. The kid did own plenty of play things.

"Can we make a fort?" Stan asked grabbing his pillow.

"Um, why don't we do something quieter? I don't want you wired before bed."

"Then I don't know what to do. You won't like any of my toys."

Whitney thought for a moment before saying, "You know, I brought over some craft stuff if you want to make something fun."

"Meh…"

"Well what do you want to do? C'mon Stan, I know you can think of something, you're a kid."

Stan thought a moment before smiling. "Hide n' seek?"

Whitney grinned. "Yeah, okay."

Stan whooped. "Who goes first? How 'bout whoever wins rock-paper-stissors hides first?"

The two went at it and Stan's paper beat Whitney's rock.

"Not fair, you live here; you already know all the good hiding spots."

Stan giggled.

"Okay, but no hiding in the basement, all right? Just upstairs or down."

The two ended up playing a very fun spin of the classic game. They hid and counted like normal the first time before jazzing things up after. They tried finding each other 'Marco Polo' style by walking around blindly as the person stood in front of them, then they had to walk backwards the whole time trying to find the other person which made it difficult to catch them once they were found. Whitney then gasped when she looked at the clock.

"It's already 8:20 kiddo, time to get you in the bath."

"Aw-awww."

"Come on, I don't want to break any of the promises I made with your parents. Come on, let's see how quick you can get your booty in the tub."

Stan chose a pair of pajamas from his dresser before heading to the bathroom.

"Do you usually have someone help you or can you bathe yourself?" Whitney leaned on the doorframe.

"I can bathe myself," Stan said with dignity.

Whitney chuckled. "Okay then. Well I'll be right by the door. Just shout if you need me okay?"

Stan nodded and closed the door behind him. Whitney spent the time texting a few friends as she stood outside the bathroom, hearing sounds of water swooshing around and a little boy's voice obviously having fun in the tub with a few toys. Twenty minutes later Stan came out in kid-friendly skull-patterned pajamas, a trail of water from his little body.

Whitney looked back. "Do you usually leave a trail of destruction behind you each bath?"

Stan looked back. "Yeah but my mom cleans it up."

Whitney raised a brow. "So I'm guessing I have to clean this all up?"

"My mom said you didn't have to clean up everything."

"It's rude not to. Why don't you get in your room and do something quiet while I clear this up real quick okay?" She then smiled at him. "Look at you, I finally get to see what's been hiding under your hat."

Stan blushed. "I wear my hat a lot, sometimes all day and night."

"Why would you do that? You have such cute hair." She took his towel and ran it over his head to dry it.

"Hey!" he cried.

She laughed when she lifted the towel. "Aww look, you have crazy spikes now."

Stan 'humfed'. After she was done he went in to brush his teeth although skipped flossing. Whitney crossed her arms and raised a brow.

"Well my mom does it for me. Unless _you_ know how to floss somebody's teeth?"

She decided one night wouldn't matter and had him dry his hair one last time before he went under his covers. Whitney looked at the seven-year-old who sat up with his covers over his knees and a stuffed dog lay next to him.

"So, um, does your mom or dad usually read you bedtime stories each night?"

"My mom reads to me all the time."

The boy was so oddly blunt and blank at times. "Okay… well is there anything special you'd want to hear before you go to sleep?"

Stan thought. "I'd like to hear The Bubblegum Prince Visits Honey Bear, my mom is sick of hearing that story."

"Okay, I'll go fish that out," she got up to go to his bookshelf but he stopped her.

"But I'd kinda want to hear a new story tonight. Can you tell me a story?"

"From the top of my head? Geez, I don't know, I'm not really good at that sort of thing."

"Please?"

Whitey frowned; well she knew if she was going to spend more time babysitting she would have to master the art of making up tales- this had been her third request now. She instructed Stan to sit back in bed which he did, smile on his face, anticipating what she was going to say. She looked around the room for inspiration.

"Well, okay, one day um, Batman decided he wanted to take a ride to South Park Colorado in his Batmobile."

Stan raised a brow. "Why would he want to go to Colorado?"

"Because um, there was a carnival in town."

"A _carnival_?"

It didn't seem as if he was buying it so far so she rushed on.

"Yes, a carnival. With rides and sweets and games and other fun stuff. There was a cool petting zoo there too. Anyway, Batman walked into the petting zoo and do you know what he saw?"

"What?" Stan rolled his eyes, arms behind his head.

"A little boy in a red and blue poofball hat."

"Oh _please_."

Whitney was on a roll now and did not pause. "Yes. So Batman went over to the boy and the boy cried out 'oh my god! It's my favorite super-hero Batman!'"

Stan laughed at how lame this story was but he wanted to know what happened next so he snuggled in for a crazy tale. Whitney had gone on to say how Stan and Batman enjoyed a fun day petting animals, going on rides, and eating funnel cake and candy apples. By this time Stan had gotten sleepy and lay on his side, eyes half-open.

"And Batman and Stan flew off into the night to save the world of the bad guys. The end."

Stan yawned. "Cool story if I must say. I liked the part when Batman and I stopped the Joker from hurting the baby cows then ate candy apples after, best."

"Why thank-you."

Whitney looked at the boy's alarm and saw that it was now 9:45. She got to her feet.

"I should wait downstairs for your parents now then kid. Have a nice sleep okay?"

Stan nodded. "Thanks for the fun night tonight Whitney."

The teenager smiled. "No problem, I had fun too. You're a cute kid."

"I hope my parents ask you to babysit again real soon."

"Well we'll see what happens. Goodnight." She shut off his lamp and closed the door and went downstairs. She busied herself by cleaning up any last mess and by eleven Sharon and Randy had come home.

"Were there any troubles?" Sharon asked as she took off her coat.

"None at all. We had a lot of fun."

"Sure? He didn't break any rules or cause trouble or had any breathing difficulties?" Randy had to ask.

"Nope, nothing. He's asleep in bed now. He had me make up a story for him," Whitney explained.

Sharon smiled and after twenty minutes of going over the night and chitchat it was time for Whitney to get back home herself. Sharon shook hands with her gratefully, thanking her for a perfect night. She said it was her pleasure and after she was passed along her fifty dollars, she left.

"Well she seems like a keeper. We'll make sure to call back on her again," Randy stretched.

"It's nice to know they had such a good time together. I'm going to check in on Stanley, you coming up soon?"

Randy nodded and she went up the stairs. He went to make sure everything was off that needed to be before going back up. Just another normal babysitting night he was sure Stan would talk about enthusiastically the next morning.

_That was fun. I do like writing Stan in different ages that haven't been used yet although it hardly makes a difference. The next chapter should be up soon so stay tuned. Review please!_

_LOL (lots of love): Rose, February 9, 2012_


	7. Open Wide!

**OPEN WIDE!**

A/N: This one is a bit longer but sometimes stories end up being more than you originally planned. I hope you can decipher the toddle speak. Enjoy nonetheless!

"Okay, we will see you then. Thank-you, you too. Bye!" Sharon hung up the phone and went over to the living room where her kids were playing. Well, where Shelley was to be looking out for her brother while she spoke on the phone. Sharon smiled over to two-year-old Stanley who was playing with a pile of blocks. "Guess what sweetie?"

"Ut?" Stan grinned up.

"Next Tuesday you're going to go to your very first dental visit! Isn't that exciting?" She was feeling happy even though she knew he had no idea what she was talking about.

Stan frowned. "Ut dat Mommy?"

"The dentist is a man or woman who cleans people's teeth. He or she is going to make sure your teeth are nice and pretty and that will be that! It will be a fun day."

Stan stuck a thumb in his mouth, not knowing what to think.

"Why- why dey dat an' you b'ush my teef?"

"Why? Because it's what they do. Just like Daddy studies rocks and Mommy looks out for an office, a dentist fixes teeth." She knew at that moment that was the wrong thing to say judging by the look on her son's face.

"My teef b'oken?"

"No- no sweetie, forget I just said that. They clean teeth. They just do a better job at it than I do to yours each night. I promise you it's going to be okay and you have nothing to fear." At that moment the phone rang and Sharon went over to answer it.

Stan sat on the floor thinking hard over what his mother had just said and not knowing how to feel. Six-year-old Shelley took it upon herself to explain it all to him. She hopped off the couch and stood in front of him.

"So, you're going to the dentist next week. You know, all kids do. I have. And ya know what? It _is_ something to fear."

Stan frowned as he clutched the stuffed dog he had gotten for his second birthday he dubbed 'Ruffy.'

"Lots've people need their teeth fixed 'cause they are broken. It's more than just a simple brushing of the teeth like Mommy does. People go in to get all sorts of things done to them."

"Dey do?" Stan clutched the dog more.

"Ah-huh. A lot of kids hate going to the dentist. I don't mind 'cause I'm not scared of anything but I know this one kid in my class… he was so afraid of going he passed out. Just- donk!" Shelley made the gesture of a person kneeling over.

"No lie to me?" Stan asked quietly.

"Not lying. You know how much you like cookies? Well the dentist doesn't like it when you eat sweets. He's going to get real mad and tell you not to eat any more."

"I- I like cookies!"

"Well you might not be able to eat them anymore once the dentist sees you."

Shelley thought for a second before gesturing Stan to follow her. "Want me to show you the dentist so you know what to expect? That is, so you can prepare yourself?"

Stan got to his feet, thumb in mouth and nodded. He wanted to know what scary thing he was facing. Shelley led him to the office where the only computer in the house was set up. She logged on and began typing in something on Yahoo. Shelley pulled Stan up so he could see better, not as an act of kindness but a way to torment him further.

"See this Stan? It's the dentist."

It was a picture of a man dressed in a white lab coat smiling.

"This is how he looks before he works on you. Just a sec…" she scowled down and found another image, one of a woman with a mask over her face and tools in her gloved hands. "And this is how they'll look when they're working on you!"

"Ahhh! Wut dat?" he pointed to her tools.

"Those are the tools just like they have at the doctor's office."

He mumbled a jumble of words but the only thing she made out was 'dodder' which was Stan's word for doctor.

"They _are_ doctors Stan. See their clothes and tools and gloves?"

Tears were already forming in Stan's blue eyes; he was only two but he already hated something- the doctor's. Hated going there with the scary people with shots in their hands. Shelley was not through yet- she forced him to see an image of dental tools and a cartoon of a man looking scared as he sat in a dentist chair.

"Nooo!" Stan stumbled out the chair and ran from the room crying.

Poor Sharon had no idea what her daughter had shown her son, and this was just the tip of the iceberg. Shelley reveled in the thought she had a full week to scare Stan out of his mind. She didn't think of how difficult it might be for her mother to calm him down, all she cared about was she was able to bring tears in her little brother's eyes. She loved doing that. That first night Stan had difficulties falling asleep and Sharon didn't know why. But as each day passed she tried getting him used to the idea of going to the dentist.

"Do you want to see pictures of the nice dentist honey?" Sharon asked her son the next day.

"No!" Stanley cried.

"Come on, I found some great pictures online so I can show you how cool it can be. Let's look at them together." She took his little hand and he had no choice but to look. Sharon sat her toddler on her lap as she pulled up some pictures. "Look at this one honey, look at how kind the dentist looks." She showed him a picture of a smiling man in a fun set of scrubs. "And her"- she showed him a hygienist in colorful scrubs as well. "Look at this; they have toys to play with in some offices." She showed him an image of a dentist office with toys set out but Stan struggled in her lap.

"No Mommy, no!"

"Sweetie, it's okay. Oh, look at this one!" It was of a child a year or two older than him in the dentist chair, smile on her face. "Look Stanley, this is the special chair you sit in when the dentist looks at you. Doesn't it look neat? It's blue, you like blue. And look at the funny bib they put on you! Just like when you eat, so you don't mess up your shirt. Isn't that funny? I think the girl finds it funny."

"No! No no no!" Stan cried.

"Stanley what's wrong? There's nothing to be afraid of, look at how the girl is smiling. It's okay baby."

With difficulty Stan finally was able to be freed and ran as far as he could without falling, away from the machine with the scary pictures. When Shelley came home from school that day she wasted no time pulling Stan to her.

"Oh my god Stan you'll never guess what happened- Lisa Melling just went to the dentist today and she told me how the doctor forgot to give her pain medicine so she felt everything when he was pulling her tooth out!"

"Ut? Oh no, dat so scree!"

"It is scary huh? I didn't think it was poss'ble but she told me and she never lies. And guess what else? They use shots at the dentist too."

Stan's eyes went wider still.

"Yeah-huh. They use shots and they don't go in the arm or leg like at the doctor, it goes in your _mouth_."

Tears erupted in his eyes yet again.

Thursday Sharon had checked out a few pictures books about going to the dentist at the library but they were more of a nightmare bedtime story than anything.

"No wanna hear more Mommy," Stan told her as she opened the second book.

Sharon frowned. "Stanley what has gotten into you? Ever since I told you you'd be going to the dentist you've been so nervous. Sweetie, you have nothing to be afraid of, it's going to be okay. I wouldn't lie to you."

"You- you say shots don't hurt but dey do," Stan pointed out.

She was caught: she shook her head to come up with words quickly. "Sweetie, just trust me. You shouldn't be afraid, it won't hurt. I know shots are ochie but the dentist won't be. Promise."

Monday Sharon tried watching some videos of young children at the dentist online but Stan wasn't fooled. And after she came home from school Shelley would tell Stan anything else she could to scar his mind since it would be the last time she'd be able to do so. She showed him images of people with braces and made up yet another scary tale of the dentist. Stan was good and scared straight into the night and had difficulties staying asleep. Sharon exhaustedly had to take Stan back to bed after he had crawled out his crib over ten times that night.

"It's a busy day tomorrow. It's night-night now, time to sleep…" Sharon yawned.

"Sleep wif you! Sleep wif you!" Stan held his arms up.

She hardly ever allowed her kids to sleep in bed with her and Randy unless they were really sick or terrified of something. Tonight seemed like that night. Sharon took that Tuesday off from work; she wanted to prepare her son as much as possible.

"Mommy, can I go with you when you take Stan to the dentist today?" Shelley asked her mother that morning over breakfast.

"What? Why would you want to go?"

"Just to make him feel better," she shrugged.

Sharon smiled. "How sweet. But I think you have school dear. Maybe you can come the next time though."

"Awww." She wanted to see if he freaked out.

Randy ruffled Stan's hair before he left for work. "You be a big brave boy for Daddy okay? I'm sure Mommy will tell me all about it."

And Sharon was left to go about the morning preparing the two-year-old for the day. She was a little worried though; he hadn't eaten much during breakfast and wasn't talking much. He looked fearful almost and kept clutching his stuffed dog. Sharon hoped it was because of the little sleep he received the night before. Stan's appointment was at 10:15. An hour before Sharon asked Stan if he wanted to go over the Berenstain Bears Visit the Dentist one more time but he refused. At 9:45 Sharon thought it best to go. She told Stan he could bring his lovey along and another special toy and he was soon buckled in his car seat and they were off. As they drove Sharon wished there was a special pediatric dental office in the area. Since South Park was a mountain town there weren't many options when it came to dental practices. There were only six open to the thousand or so people who lived in the town and none specialized in children. The place she was taking him today was the best of them when it came to kids; it's where she took Shelley and where she and Randy went themselves. The staff was kind and as patient as could be even if they weren't open exclusively to children. She could already sense Stanley was nervous but she had a feeling once he felt safe with the people there, he'd power through.

Stan squeezed his mother's neck when she walked into Family Dentistry. With difficulty Sharon was able to speak to the receptionist there.

"How are you today Ms. Marsh? Oh! Is this your little son?" the woman asked.

"Yes, today is Stanley's first visit to the dentist. Do you want to say hello to Ms. Whethers sweetie?"

Stan moaned into her neck and squeezed harder.

"Just fill out this form here and I'll let Dr. Karik know you're here."

At this Stan began to cry. Sharon bit her lip as she took a seat; she had been trying to avoid saying the word 'doctor' this whole week for she knew he'd get upset. He already made a scene at the doctor's office, now that he knew doctors ran dentist offices too, he would not feel comforted.

"Shhh, it's okay sweetheart, you're okay. Nothing's happening. Shh, it's okay," Sharon soothed as she rubbed his back with one hand and wrote with the other.

She placed him on the chair next to her but he just placed his face in her side. "Mommy…"

"Shhh, nothing bad is going to happen. I promise baby. Why don't you play with the toys over there while Mommy fills this out okay?" she nodded to the small table set up with little kids' toys.

"Mommy, Mommy go home."

Well, if he wanted to cry and lean on her the whole time she wasn't going to stop it. It was a little after ten minutes after Sharon filled the form did the door across from them opened and a slightly older lady in Garfield-patterned scrubs stepped out.

"Stanley?"

Sharon bent to her son's head. "Are you going to say 'hi' to the lady Stanley?"

Stan didn't answer, just held his arms up and whined to his mother. She took him in her arms and as soon as they crossed the threshold Stan began to cry.

"Shhh, it's okay baby, it's okay…" Sharon rubbed his back as they walked into a room where a blue dental chair sat. Sharon took a seat on a chair and tried getting her son to at least look at the hygienist but he could not. "I'm so sorry about him," the mother stressed.

"He's not the first kid to behave this way, happens a lot," the hygienist, Amanda smiled.

"I know but- well my daughter didn't act this way when she was his age, I don't know why he's so upset…" Sharon hugged Stan tightly as he stained her neck with tears and clutched her shirt.

"If it takes him a little while longer to get used to the dentist that's okay. As long as he feels safe and comfortable in the end. We usually are able to reach young children after talking to them that first visit. Before the exam begins I just want to go over the form you filled out-" the woman held it up. "So we can get a good starting dental profile on your son. It seems his first teeth started coming in at a normal age- ten months. Were there any problems when he was teething?"

"Nothing that isn't normal for a child I'd say," Sharon struggled over her wiggling son.

"Does your son chew on anything? Toys? His fingers? Things like that?"

"He sucks his thumb and he'll put his fingers in his mouth here and there."

"Okay. It's not a concern yet at age two but it is important you begin weaning him from thumb-sucking by the time he's four. By then sucking can cause the teeth to protrude out and interfere with speech problems."

The next ten minutes Amanda went over any questions Sharon had as well as going over the file she filled out and what was normal for a child of Stanley's age. Stan had calmed his crying somewhat and hung onto his mother's neck the whole time. Finally they were told Dr. Karik would be coming in soon and left it at that. Stan was back to whimpering and no amount of soothing from Sharon seemed to help. He knew this; it was just like at the doctor's. The nurse would call him in and the grown-ups talked and she did a few things before the doctor came in and took over. He hated not knowing what was going to happen next.

"Mommy, go home," he said for the hundredth time.

"We can go home after this okay baby?"

"Mommy, go home _now_."

"Not now honey, but soon."

Dr. Karik stepped in with a smile on his face five minutes later. He tried shaking Stan's tiny hand but he cried out and stood on his legs in his mother's lap, trying to get away. The adults talked for a short while before Dr. Karik tried to speak to the child. He claimed he wanted to be friends and he was a good person but Stan didn't buy it.

"I promise I'm a good person Stanley. I take care of your big sister Shelley as well as your mommy and daddy. And they aren't afraid of me are they?" he took out a hand to pat the boy on the back but Stan screamed.

"No no no! No tush me!"

Dr. Karik bit his lip; Stanley Marsh appeared like he was going to be 'one of those kids.' The dentist didn't want to rush things but he did have to see someone in forty minutes and he wanted to get the child examined today. He had his share of kids who freaked the way Stan was but he was always able to gain their trust in the end, and little kids were usually easy to distract.

"Say Stanley, why don't you sit in the big funny chair for me okay? I'm going to show you the funny-looking tools I'll be using. Mommy will be right next to you the whole time, promise." At that moment the same nurse who had talked with Sharon earlier came in in case extra assistance was needed. Sharon got to her feet and neared the chair; Stan was screaming by this point.

"Baby, it's okay. You're okay, it won't hurt, I promise baby. I _promise_. Just let the kind dentist look at your teeth okay?" Sharon pleaded.

Sharon set her small son on the chair and took up a seat next to him- he got to his feet and held his arms up, almost choking on his tears now as he called for his mother. Dr. Karik tried getting the boy used to the tools and said they would tickle. Stan glanced over before flipping out again. Finally it was evident the visit would be a bust; if they couldn't calm the child down, there was no point getting him to know the tools and examining and cleaning his teeth. Sharon frowned as she took the two-year-old out of the room and into the bathroom where she helped clean up his snot-covered face. She scheduled an appointment for the next week, hoping it would go better then. She walked out and gained a few looks from others waiting in the reception area from her son who was still wailing on her shoulder.

Dinner that night was an uncomfortable affair. Stan was able to eat his serving of chicken pot pie happily; clearly at ease he was no longer in that scary building anymore. Shelley had laughed for almost a half-hour when she found out how her little brother behaved. But Sharon looked upset as she explained the day's events to her husband. She tried to not say too much to make Stanley feel sad or like he did something bad but the parents couldn't drop it like nothing.

"Why were you so scared at the dentist today kiddo?" Randy asked his son.

Stan smiled as he held up his child-sized fork. "Chin!" Clearly no answers were going to come from him tonight. It wasn't that big of a deal, and most parents would shrug and say 'better luck next time' but Sharon could not help but be a little bothered by the day's events as she and Randy settled into their bedtime routine.

"I just don't understand it. We went over everything all last week. We were prepared. I was prepared by how things may go. I don't know why… it turned out the complete opposite."

Randy sighed as he took off his pants. "Some kids freak out about things more than others. We have two kids now. Just because something went well with Shelley doesn't mean it's going to be the same with Stanley."

Sharon sighed. "I know but why does it seem like everything is five times worse with him? He was so fussy as a baby and still easily gets startled and upset now. His teething was worse, doctor appointments are a nightmare. He's always sick. Shelley was interested in toilet-training at his age. I don't want our son to be one of those kids still in a diaper at age three. And now this." She sniffed and Randy gripped her shoulder. "He's so difficult Randy."

"Shh, it's okay. He'll grow out of it. He'll grow out of all of these things soon. He'll be a really happy, healthy, talkative kid in five years, I know it. Every kid is difficult and, well, our second is simply more of an emotional being than his sister. We have to deal with Shelley's aggressiveness; we have to deal with Stanley's- well, constant tears. It'll get better, it will."

Sharon smiled through her tears. "This is what we get for wanting a boy so badly huh?"

Randy gave a sad smile and shrugged. "Stan will be fine Shar. He'll be able to go to the dentist no problem and when he's ten we can embarrass him with stories of how difficult he was when he was little."

Sharon chuckled and kissed his lips. Two days had gone by before Sharon decided to bring the topic up with her son. She kneeled and watched him play with an assortment of blocks, cars, and stuffed animals in his room. She began to join in his play to hopefully ease into the subject with less fuss.

"Sweetie, can you tell Mommy why you were so afraid of the dentist the other day?"

Stan's face was blank and he started babbling to her directions about the blue car she was holding.

"Sweetie?"

"Scree."

"What was so scary about it?"

"Dun like it Mommy. Owie."

"But I told you before it wouldn't hurt."

Stan let out a screech which split Sharon's ears. "Noooo! No lie Mommy! No lie Stanny!" he was on his feet and threw his blocks down.

"Stanley what are you talking about? I never lied to you! I told you it would be a fun day and the dentist was going to make sure your teeth were nice and pretty!"

Stan began to cry. Sharon could tell he was trying to tell her something so she listened in on his toddler talk, catching as many words as she could. There was one that she knew only too well-

"Snelly!"

Sharon glared. "_What_ did your sister do?"

Stan just sniveled some more but it was enough; she was going to have a talk with her daughter as soon as she came home from school. Sharon had pulled her aside when she had come home and asked her why her bother brought up her name when talking about the dentist.

"_I_ don't know, he's a stupid baby," Shelley crossed her arms.

"You tell me what you did right now young lady or you'll be in even more trouble!"

It took a little more time to get the six-year-old to start talking but she eventually spilled enough to be grounded. She told her mother she had shown Stan scary dentist pictures and told him scary fake dentist tales to frighten him simply, as she said, 'because she could.' And now that Sharon knew the reason behind her son's fears she could take the next five days to try and gain his trust again. Before anything she had to explain some things to him later that evening.

"Stanley, I don't want to lie to you okay? The dentist does fix people's teeth."

Stan gasped.

"But only if there is something wrong. Just like Daddy fixes your broken toys."

"So Snelly tell truf?"

"She said some things that are just silly and wrong. The things she did say and the pictures she showed, while true, has nothing to do with you."

The little boy looked confused.

"A lot of those things happen in adults, and kids much older than you. You're only two and the scary and painful things you saw would not happen to you when you go. I promise."

Stan looked unsure.

"They do happen yes, but only to older people. Not to cute little toddlers like you!" she tickled him causing him to laugh. "Do you remember the story Teddie Bear Goes to the Dentist?"

Stan nodded.

"It's just like that. The dentist will count your teeth and make sure they are all pretty. You can show him how you help me brush your teeth. He'll use funny-looking tools that will tickle your teeth and clean them and they will look so pretty after! You may even get a prize! And that's all there is to it. I _promise_ you baby." Sharon looked almost desperate to get him to understand.

Stan stuck a thumb in his mouth. "…no owie?"

"No owie baby."

"No shots?"

"You won't get any."

"Buh- buh da dodders"-

Sharon sighed. "Yes there are doctors but again, they won't hurt you. You'll just be in the funny chair and have your teeth counted and tickled. That's all."

Although he was still a little weary Stan went over and into his mother's lap causing her to sign; she had finally gotten to him a little. Sharon felt more prepared as she walked into the dental office with her son that Wednesday. She had showed plenty of videos of children at the dentist and how calm and smiley they were and from what he saw, it was just what his mom had told him it would be. He did feel slightly better that day although was still apprehensive as they waited and wanted his mother to carry him as they went behind the door. He was quiet as he sat in her lap as she talked about some things with the hygienist. Stan was able to bear his teeth to the woman and mumbled a few things when she asked him how he brushed his teeth. A few minutes later Dr. Karik arrived.

"Are you going to shake my hand today partner?" he smiled at the boy.

Stan held his hand out for a second before turning back to his mom. The dentist sat opposite Sharon and Stan and explained what he was going to do and get the boy as comfortable around him as possible. Next came the tricky part- getting Stan in the chair. He whined and fussed and reached out to Sharon who sat in a chair near him. She gave him his lovey Ruffy and rubbed his arm.

"It's okay baby, you're okay."

Before anything Dr. Karik showed Stan the tools and let him hold them himself. Even though the little mirror didn't look like it would hurt Stan began to cry when the chair was lowered slightly and a light shown on his mouth. Seconds into looking around he began gagging and ended up throwing-up. Sharon explained he was prone to doing so no matter what the circumstance. Stan wailed as the doctor counted his teeth and looked around- moving his head away the whole while. Sharon wasn't able to reach his hand but she constantly told him soothing things and told him to hug Ruffy if he wanted to. The chair let up.

"I count nineteen teeth. Wow, that's a lot of teeth isn't it Stanley?" Dr. Karik smiled.

Stan sniffed and wiggled his fingers out as if trying to show everyone what nineteen looked like on them. "Nine… nindy."

"His second molar on the bottom left still needs to come in but from the looks of it you have strong teeth," Dr. Karik told Sharon before turning to the boy.

Since the initial exam was quick the adults braved on by decided to sparkle up Stanley's teeth. This is what the hygienist took over. She tested the tools that came from long hose-like things on his finger to show them they were indeed harmless. A bib was placed over his shirt and it practically covered his whole body. He had to sit back far in the chair, most of his tiny body where the headrest was. He had his teeth brushed with bubblegum toothpaste and they were cleaned and polished. It didn't hurt but Stan was soon finding out he did not like things in his mouth that wasn't food. Many tears and screams later Stan was back in his mother's arm.

"You were such a big boy today! And do you know what big boys and girls get?" the hygienist asked.

Stan frowned as he wrapped an arm around Sharon's neck.

"You get a new toothbrush!"

Stan held it up and gasped.

"Oh wow, look sweetie, it glitters. I wish I had a glittery toothbrush," Sharon said.

"Ooohh wow," Stan inspected the blue brush.

"And you get to pick a prize from the treasure chest. Want to go see what's in the treasure chest Stanley?"

Stan wiggled out of his mother's arms to go after the woman who showed him a box full of small toys. After picking and dropping a few he chose a squishy frog. During dinner that night Stan went in-depth with what happened at the dentist. Randy could make out half of what he said but told him he was proud in the end making the little boy beam.

"So what do you like more? The dentist or doctor's office?" Randy asked.

"I- I- dodder scree. No like dennis pudding stuff in my mouf. No like the chair. Bof scree. I like kitties!" Stan cried causing his parents to laugh.

"Just wait till you get a shot in your mouth, then you'll really hate it," Shelley grumbled.

"Shelley!" Randy and Sharon scolded as Stan sat in his booster seat, a look of fear on his face.

_As usual hope you enjoyed. And again, I have this odd fascination of medical things and that is why I bring them up a lot in my stories. Look out for the next installment! Review please, I wish I had more. _

_Lol (lots of love): Rose, February 14, 2012_


	8. Inconvenient Timing

**INCONVENIENT TIMING **

A/N: Another pretty funny thing I created in my head. Read on!

"Mom? Mom!"

"I'm coming, I'm coming," Sharon reassured the child in the living room who was calling her name. She walked out of the kitchen and into the living room where her eight-year-old son Stanley was sitting on the couch, blanket draped over his shoulders. She passed along the cup of tea in her hands to him. He blinked heavy lids at it. "It might help sooth your symptoms for a little bit okay?"

Stan sighed and took in a sip. "Wheel of Fortune's just starded," he sniffed.

Sharon took a seat next to him and he sat his head on her shoulder. He had a cold and had been coughing all day so he hadn't gone to school. He had the sniffles yesterday but all the symptoms hit full blast today. Sharon did hate to lie to her boss and tell him she was sick, just so she could take care of him. She was paid sick days but didn't get anything if her kids needed her so it was the only way. Stan sniffed as he drank his tea.

"Dra-draaa- dressed to impress!" Stan called to the TV. At that moment the contestant solved the clue to the applause of the audience.

"Good job honey," Sharon said.

By the second round Stan complained his head hurt and set the tea down and laid his head on his mother's lap. It was quiet downstairs as the two watched the classic game show while the rest of the family was busy doing their after-dinner thing upstairs. Stan coughed here and there and by the end of the show his lids had shut over his eyes. Sharon made sure he was warm by wrapping his blanket firmly over him and had a hand on his back as he slept, the other controlling the remote. 9 o'clock had rolled by but Sharon didn't wake Stan just yet even though it was his bedtime. She had a feeling he'd be just as bad tomorrow and there was little reason to get him in bed if he wasn't going to go to school the next day. By 9:40 Sharon turned the TV off for there was nothing on and she was feeling tired herself. She lifted her son in her arms and carried him off to bed. He began coughing as soon as he was in bed. He felt awake enough for a bedtime story so she grabbed a short one- The Berenstain Bears and Too Much Junkfood, and began to read. He fell asleep as soon as she finished what was one of his favorite books, and good timing too, her throat was a bit scratchy and she just wanted to go to bed herself. It did pain her to see her son look so warm and peaceful in bed because she would have to wake him in two hours for his next dose of medicine. Until 11 PM hit, she glided out the room to get some rest herself.

The night was long and tedious for Sharon. She felt exhausted and didn't even wake up at eleven to give Stan his next dose of Chilren's Biomex Cough N' Cold, she slept straight through. She heard distance noise. She moaned and strained her eyes and the outline of Randy was a few feet from her. It was already morning.

"Nnnnn… what?" she moaned and rubbed her eyes.

"Sharon, Stan's been calling you for a little while now. You okay?"

Sharon rubbed her eyes again and nodded but regretted it as soon as she did so- it hurt like all hell. Randy was already dressed and ready to go. "They need me at the office early today so I'm going to be gone in around five okay?"

Sharon just gave him the thumbs up before he left. Only then did she hear 'Mom! Moooom!' coming from the room just right of the master. The voice was full of pain and pleading. Only when Sharon placed her feet to the floor did she realize something- her throat was on fire. She swallowed and gritted her teeth doing so. She let out a few coughs and her eyes went wide- she had caught her son's cold. Hoping her worries could wait ten minutes she walked to her son.

"Wh-what honey?" she rasped.

"Mom," Stan's voice was just as quiet. "Mom, my throat hurts," he sniffed.

Sharon winced as she instinctively swallowed. "It- does baby?"

Stan nodded and coughed. He moaned and kicked at his covers. "Moooom, it hurts."

At that minute the mother realized she didn't know what to do. Her son only had another symptom added to his list and now she was feeling just as sick probably. A wave of nausea swept over Sharon and she pinched her nose.

"Just- second babe"- she ran into the bathroom and threw up and sat leaning over the toilet for a few minutes, trying to figure her plans as best she could through her pounding head. First thing first- she had to call both her son's school and Tom's Rhinoplasty- no way was she going to be able to work today without passing out. Since she was in the bathroom she decided it best to check her temperature. She moved aside a packet of floss in her kids' bathroom for the thermometer and stuck it under her tongue; a minute later she read what it said- 100.5. She swallowed painfully and decided to meet up with her son again.

"Mommy it hurts so much"- Stan hacked, chest raising and falling dramatically. The sounds coming from his chest were only the tell-tell signs of an asthma attack in progress. Sharon coughed as she fished out his breathing machine. Stan looked on with wide eyes as he wheezed horribly, gripping his sheets. "Are- are you-'kay Mom?"

Sharon bit her lip as her foggy mind tried remembering how to set up the nebulizer.

"If you must know sweetie"- another painful swallow. "I think Mommy caught- (_cough_) your cold."

Stan went into a long coughing fit and Sharon rubbed his back before setting him on the floor and rested his back against his pillow, giving him the mask. The boy drew in a very long and labored breath and Sharon couldn't imagine just how tight his chest must be feeling at that moment. As she watched him cough and breathe and get oxygen back into his body those fifteen minutes she couldn't help but wish she could get relief from the machine as well. But she knew it was not safe to take it for she did not have asthma. Instead she coughed and tried to comfort her son as much as herself. When the dry splutter began to sound from the machine Stan turned it off, knowing the little cup was empty of that dosage of medicine.

"Feel better?" Sharon whispered.

Stan drew in a shaky breath. "Kinda but my throat…" he coughed again. He may have still had a nagging cough but at least he could catch his breath now. Sharon took hold of his hand and the two went downstairs. She went into the medicine cabinet to see what would be best for them both. She found two different bottles and went to pour juice in two cups for them to wash down the taste of the medicine.

"I don't like that one," Stan wiped his tears, pointing at the bottle of Children's Heminol Multi-Symptom Cold Remedy. Sharon ignored this as she poured out the crimson liquid into the little measuring cup it came with at two tablespoons. "Mooomm…"

"It's the best for you," Sharon managed to say. She was defiantly not in the mood to have a battle of wills with her child. Unlike what she had been giving him yesterday this one took care of sore throats as well as his cough and cold.

"It tastes horrible!"

"It's cherry."

"It doesn't even taste like (_cough_) cherry, and I _hate_ cherries."

"Take it _now_ Stanley!" Sharon snapped, wincing at how it hurt her throat.

Fearful, Stan gulped the liquid as if it were poison and hurriedly washed it with his juice. After Sharon took her own medicine she put the juice and cups away before she was left in the kitchen with her son who was looking up at her. Watery dull blue eyes met watery dull blue eyes.

"If you want me to do something for you, you better tell me now," Sharon sniffed. "Because I plan on staying in bed for the next four hours."

"I want my feet rubbed," Stan mumbled.

No way was Sharon in the mood to do that anytime today. He also wanted to stay downstairs to watch Spongebob but she did not want him to spread his germs in the main family area, nor did she want to go get him if he wanted her while she was all the way upstairs in a comfortable bed. Finally he requested he was able to sleep with her special body-length red pillow and a quilt her mother had made. This she was able to do. Even though it might make her headache worse, Sharon allowed him to use a small bell to ring if he needed her. She may be sick but her duty as a mother was to take care of her child first and for most. She sighed as she watched her son snuggled against the pillow that was longer than him and hold onto lovey Ruffy at the same time. She hoped he would be okay for a little while; she really needed to get as happy in bed too.

It was a painful two hours. One thing Sharon hated about being sick was how difficult it was for her to sleep. She tossed and turned and moaned when she realized she forgot something- to call her son and herself in at school and work, sick. She groaned again and rubbed her eyes, she just wanted to sleep and her cell was so far from her on her bedside table. Just a few minutes, that's all she needed, then she'd call. But it was as if they knew it had been long overdue for a heads up and they called within minutes from each other. All Sharon could muster was 'he's sick' and 'I'm sick' before turning to her side and trying to find relief. She could hear coughing here and there from Stanley's room. She felt so bad for him, she knew he probably wanted comfort or relief from her but she was not able to provide it. Thankfully she did not hear the ringing of his 'sick bell' yet. Her brain was too fogged, she had to sleep…

Around 10 AM there was knocking on the door. The older woman waited a moment before knocking again.

"Hello? Sharon? Are you home? It's Mara," the visitor called. Slightly worried her daughter-in-law had not answered the old lady took out her keys and found the one that fit to the door and stepped inside. "Hello? Anybody home? It's Grandma," she tried again. Since there was no answer she could only guess her son's phone call was true so she better make sure everyone was okay. She went up the stairs. "Sharon? Stanley? It's Grandma Mara."

At that moment Sharon shook herself awake for she thought she heard someone walking around. Hoping it wasn't a burglar she got to her feet and grasped her chest-

"Mara!" her eyes were wide.

"Sharon! How are you dear?"

"I- what are you- I"- she began hacking.

At that moment the door Grandma Mara had been standing by opened and Stan stepped out rubbing an eye.

"Grandma?"

"Hi sweetie, how are you?" she placed a hand to his forehead and frowned. "Poor dear, you're so warm."

Stan coughed and put his face in her side. She bent down and put him in her arms; he coughed again and snuggled into her shoulder. He couldn't help it, when he was sick he loved the added love and attention and comfort. Sharon shook her head, clearly confused.

"What-why- what are you doing here?" she rasped.

"Well I received a phone call from Randy this morning telling me Stanley was still sick. He also told me you may have caught his cold too. You didn't get out of bed and you were still in bed when he left for work. You never specified if you were going to work or not. He was just worried and wanted someone to check up on things here."

Sharon gave a painful smile. "That's- that's sweet of you (_cough_) but I have it under control. We'll (_hack_) be okay."

Grandma Mara frowned. "Look at you Sharon, you can hardly stand let alone take care of your son."

Sharon swallowed painfully. "R-really, it's okay."

"You need someone to care of you too. Tell me everything so I can get you two as comfortable as possible," the older woman said in a business-like manner.

"Mara…"

"Grandma, I'm thirsty," Stan said.

"Are you honey?" she set him down. "What would you like to drink?"

"Mara please, I can take care of the both of us," Sharon insisted.

"Just how do you expect to take care of yourself when Stanley needs something?"

"It's okay, we just need bed rest. I can (_cough_) handle it."

"Like it or not I'm staying today." Grandma Mara placed a hand on Stan's head and they walked downstairs. Really feeling too much like crap to move, Sharon was not done fighting so she followed after and watched Mara pour Stan a cup of strawberry banana juice.

"Mara, as grateful as I am you came, (_sniff_) you didn't need to. Stanley, what do you think?"

Stan tried blowing his stuffed up nose. "I just feel like crap…"

Grandma Mara smiled. "I really don't mind Sharon, for the last time. Relax, you're sick. You do so much for this family already, you deserve some rest."

No mother wanted to ever have someone step in and take over what she usually did. Taking care of her kids when they were sick was second nature for Sharon, she had been doing it for the past twelve years and the few times she was sick with them she still managed to please everyone. She could do this. Sharon looked on with a slightly open mouth (not that she could close it, her nose was stuffed) as her mother-in-law tended to Stanley in an orderly fashion, asking how he was feeling and finding out when he last had breathing troubles and used his asthma medication. Grandma Mara proceeded with pulling out a thermometer from a bag she had brought over.

"M-Mara- I took Stanley's temp-(_sniff_) ature a few hours ago."

She didn't listen and had the boy place the device under his tongue. "100.2, poor thing, I need to get you back to bed and cooled off, how does that sound?"

Stan nodded his heavy head.

"You were the one who brought (_cough_) him down for a dr- (_sniff_) drink. He was fine in bed," Sharon complained.

"Sharon, why can't you let me help you two out? There's nothing wrong with asking for help now and again. I know you're a busy mother, this is the one time someone should be waiting on _you_ hand and foot," the grandmother smiled warmly.

Sharon opened her mouth to speak but at that moment she felt something creep up her throat and she ran to the toilet. A minute later she felt Mara step in and place a hand on her shoulder.

Sharon looked up from tear-stricken eyes. "H-help me."

Grandma Mara nodded in satisfaction and helped the woman up. Stan followed after his mother and grandmother and was told to grab his things from his room; he would be bunking with his mother in the master bedroom for the day.

"I- I don't want to spread our germs," Sharon rasped as she was forced into bed.

"You're already sick; I don't think two people in a bed for a couple days will make much of a difference. Germs are already being spread. But I have plenty of Lysol to spray around just in case."

"I think I'll be okay in a few hours"-

"Sharon Sharon, I know how much a mother needs time to put up her feet. Just be grateful I'm here and everything will be taken care of. I want to be here. I haven't played attentive nurse in so long now," Grandma Mara frowned.

Sharon had tears in her eyes, knowing it was no use now to argue with this fact. Grandma Mara soaked two cloths in cold water and placed them on the mother and boy's forehead to help cool them off. She then shut the curtains nice and tight and made sure the covers were over their shoulders. She kissed her grandson's flushed cheek as well as Sharon's.

"I will come up in another hour for your next dosage of medicine okay you two? Have a nice sleep." Grandma Mara blew a kiss before shutting the door.

Sharon sighed, not believing she was here still. But she was right; she did deserve to be cared for for once. She was almost crazy to think she could give Stan the added attention as he wheezed away while she was leaning over a toilet. It would be okay, really. And heck, if this was the only time she could be waited on, have food and drinks brought to her and stay in bed watching TV, she should take advantage of it. She turned to her son.

"Okay sweetheart?"

Stan dipped his head in a nod as he hugged his lovey to him and let out a few coughs. "I'm glad Grandma's here. I hurt, I wanna sleep now…"

Sharon couldn't agree more and she finally shut her eyes. Sometimes it was okay to accept other's help. And Grandma Mara only lived less than an hour away, not everyone had family so close. She was lucky. All she had to do now was get used to the bed rocking as Stan tried to make himself comfortable. It was a small sacrifice to sleep with her son and his weird sleep habits if it meant she could be just as dependent on someone else.

_That was pretty fun. I can only image how tough it must be for mothers out there who fall ill the same time their child does. How does one take care of themselves and their kid at the same time? Look out for more. Still accepting ideas. Please review! I'll give you cookies!_

_Lots of love: Rose February 24, 2012_


	9. One Parent, Two Kids

**ONE PARENT, TWO KIDS**

She should have felt excited, and she was, but the jumble of nerves in her stomach had yet to calm down. She tried ignoring it as she packed her bag for the night. It was only going to be a night, she had to stop worrying. Suddenly Randy popped into the room carrying with him a fussing baby.

"Sharon, he won't stop and I don't know what to do," the man looked completely lost for hope.

Sharon looked at her watch then frowned. "It's 10 o'clock, it's his nap time. Put him to bed."

Randy looked down at his infant son. "How can you know just like that?"

"I just do. I know generally when he needs to eat and sleep. Go on, it's not much different than bedtime."

Randy left the room, little Stanley still crying.

Then again, perhaps things would be more complicated… not long after there was a knock on the door and Sharon hurried down as she fastened an earring in her left ear. She opened it to reveal her younger sister by two years, Maggie. She was visiting from California for a week for she had yet to see her sister's new baby.

"Are you ready to go sis?" Maggie asked as she stepped into the house. The two had plans on staying in Denver for the whole day and night and come back after lunch the next day. Randy would be looking after four-year-old Shelley and six-month old Stanley all his own. It's not as if he never had before, but it really hadn't been often at all and Sharon was only working part-time at the moment so she could look after her children and get paid at the same time. She really hadn't spent longer than a few hours away from the baby yet and to be truthful, she was nervous.

Sharon went up to get her two bags before going back downstairs.

"Is he asleep?" Maggie asked biting her lip.

"Yes, Randy just put him down for his nap," Sharon said heavily. "It's best to let him be, he wakes easily. Don't worry; you're staying the night here tomorrow anyway. You'll have more time to spend with him then."

At that moment Shelley came up and tugged on her mother's pants leg, angry scowl on her face. Sharon turned to her.

"I don't see why you have to go today." Her arms were crossed, one hand gripping a stuffed horse.

"I already told you honey, Mommy wants to spend a day with just Auntie Maggie."

"I wanna spend a day with her too!"

"You will tomorrow. And for four more days after that. It's just for tonight. Don't worry, Daddy's going to take care of you and the baby today and you are going to have so much fun!"

Shelley looked up at her father who stood nearby.

"I don't wanna spend annatha day with the _baby_."

Sharon looked to her husband for help. Randy got to his knee and put a hand on her shoulder.

"Hey, we're going to have fun tonight Shelley. I have a lot of great things planned!"

Before Sharon left the door she had to go over everything with her husband once more. Stanley's feeding and sleep schedule. What toys to play with and what to avoid. Safety measures and above all, make sure Shelley was never left alone in the same room with the baby, nor allow her to hold him if he was not right by.

"C'mon Shar, he's my son too. We'll be fine. I bet the kids won't even notice you're gone!"

Sharon glared. "I'm going to be calling in of course. I trust you but… well, just stick to what I wrote down okay?"

Sharon tried getting in a few more instructions and rules to her husband before he shooed her out, telling her he had everything under control. He shook his head as his wife and her sister finally were on their way to Denver. He looked behind him to see his daughter staring up at him, still holding her stuffed horse.

"So… what do you want to do Shelley?"

Shelley blinked. "I thought you said you had stuff planned."

Randy rubbed his neck. "Heh, of- of course I do. Like I said, we're going to have fun today. Let's see, it's 10:30 right now…why don't we play with your tea set Grandma bought you before I have to wake your brother up?"

Shelley frowned. "I don't like playing tea Daddy."

Randy's daughter wasn't like other four-and-a-half-year-olds out there; she didn't want to be treated as a princess or play with dolls. At least not in the way most girls did. She would throw hers around and make them fight and wrestle. She had been doing it more since her baby brother had been born. While she craved her parents' attention more than ever now she was stubborn with the things she wanted to do. Randy settled in to watch his daughter have her dolls beat each other out in a wrestling match. Thankfully eleven rolled by and he could leave to wake his son and stop witnessing 'Pretty Pony kick the butt of Daisy Dog'.

Randy leaned over his son's crib and gently tapped his shoulder. Stanley stayed asleep. He placed a hand on his shoulder and shook slightly.

"Heeyy buddy, it's time to wake up."

Stanley scrunched up his face and moved a little, rolling on his side. Randy rubbed his stomach before finally reaching down and lifting him up. Stan fussed and whined. Randy rubbed his back.

"I know buddy, I know. I hate waking up too. But now you get to play and have fun! We're going to have fun today Stanley." Randy did a quick check of his diaper which (thankfully) was dry before telling his daughter they were going to go downstairs to have fun. Randy began bringing out some things for Stan to play and entertain with on the floor, all the while talking to him. "Mommy's having fun with Auntie Maggie so it's going to be you, sissy, and Daddy today. We're going to have a great time and show Mommy I know how to take care of you."

Stan let off a string of one syllables that sounded like 'ahhhh'. Randy placed the baby on his stomach on a baby mat where toys dangled above. Stan immediately began wiggling about and grabbing at an elephant toy above. He moved some more, rolling on one side before rolling back up and getting on his hands and knees and moving back and forth.

"Wow Shelley, did you see that? Stanley rolled over!" Randy exclaimed.

Shelley rolled her eyes. "No he didn't. He just went down then back up."

"Well he almost rolled over. He hasn't rolled over yet but today could be the day!" Randy hoped his son did a true roll-over while Sharon was away. He'd love to brag that he was the first one who saw it. Randy spent a short while longer playing with his kids (Shelley kept shouting things and throwing her doll for attention) before both kids began to show their hunger.

"Let's go out to eat," Shelley said.

"Not now Shelley, I want to make lunch today. I never get to," Randy said as he scooped up a fussing Stanley.

"But I wanna go out to eat," the preschooler whined.

"Maybe later," Randy said on the side of his mouth. "C'mon Shelley, let's get into the kitchen." He placed Stan in his highchair and gave him a toy with jiggling sounds and fun textures to occupy until he would be fed. "What do you want to eat Shelley?"

Shelley sat at the round table in the kitchen, arms crossed. "I want out to eat. I want Taco Bell."

"Not right now. C'mon… want me to make grilled cheese? I know it's one of your favorites," the father suggested.

"No."

"C'mon honey… I'll make it extra special. Promise."

Stanley began to cry and kick at his restraint in the highchair. He was hungry now and did not want to wait to be fed.

"Shelley, keep Stanley entertained while I get lunch on," Randy spoke as he fished out a frying pan.

Shelley got on her feet on her chair and faced the baby. Stan blinked big blue eyes and gave a gummy smile.

"Ahhh… ah- ehhh," he garbled, slapping on hand on his highchair, the other reaching for his big sister.

Shelley stared at her baby brother. She always would stare at him and wonder what was so great about him. Why her parents gave so much attention to something that didn't do anything. She wondered if he did it all on purpose. Probably. He probably knew he had their parents running around for him, enjoying the fact they spent more time on him than her. That's why he was smiling now. Stan's eyes traveled to Shelley's doll and they went wide; he grabbed at her hair and began pulling.

"Stupid baby! She's mine!" Shelley bit, pulling the doll her way.

Stan did not want to let it go however. Shelley was finally able to rip the toy from his tiny hands and for good measure bonked him on the head.

"Shelley, what did you do now?" Randy ordered, picking up his wailing son.

"He was pulling at Ashley!"

"You _never_ hit a baby. You never hit period, understand? I don't care what he does in the future you _never_ hit your brother ever again."

Thankfully it was a small spat but the little girl still sat at the table, angry all over. Why did Stan get away with grabbing but she got in time-out if she grabbed or didn't play nicely? The entire time her dad was fixing lunch Shelley wanted to go over and hit Stan again but knew she'd be in time-out if she did. Minutes later Randy presented lunch to his daughter; grilled cheese with a side of grapes and broccoli and strawberry milk. His daughter thankfully did like many veggies, at least for now. Now that she had her food Randy could turn to his son. Stanley was usually fed jarred baby food twice a day with break milk the rest of the day. He didn't take onto baby food this morning so Randy hoped he'd be up for it for lunch. He grabbed a tiny spoon and a jar before placing a bib around his son's neck. Stan began to cry; he did not like bibs.

"Heey there sport, want some delicious corn and sweet potato?" he read off the jar in hand. Stanley had never tried this flavor before but Randy wanted to prove to his wife he could take care of certain things, and if he was able to get him to love a new flavor, well, that's all he could hope for. He popped it open and dipped the spoon inside. He gave his son a big smile. "Open wide Stanley! Open wide for the yummy sweet potato!"

"Ehhhh!" Stan banged on his highchair and turned away.

"C'mon, they're yummy and good for you. Open up baby, open up!" Stan still turned the upper lip but Randy was determined. They had started on solid foods hardly a month ago and they had to make sure he'd like enough so he could be weaned by his first birthday. Randy was finally able to get a small bit of the mush into the baby's mouth. Stan poked his tongue out causing it to fall right back out. Randy didn't give up, he kept spooning the food inside. Stan spit it right out and the look on his face clearly meant he was not enjoying this. The man sighed and set the jar aside. "I guess we can try this one out another time. Well you have to eat Stan and you have to eat more solids. Just a sec…"

Stan began sucking his hand as he watched his father come back with another jar.

"How 'bout some apples, pears, and bananas?"

At this Stan's eyes lit up and he squealed and beamed.

"Yeah? You like this one huh?" While he was glad Stanley liked some baby food he wished it wasn't just the fruit-based ones. He didn't seem to enjoy the savory ones quite yet. He knew it was too soon to tell but he hoped he would develop a taste for veggies soon. And so began another messy feeding session, but at least the boy liked what he was eating this time.

"Eww! It looks like he's throwin' it back up!" Shelley pointed out.

"He can't chew like you yet Shelley, of course some of it's going to come back up," Randy wiped at Stan's mouth where the yellowish fruit puree sat, all while more dribbled out.

"It looks so gross," Shelley said, noticing her little brother's face and hands that were sticky with food.

"Shelley, don't you have anything nice to say to your brother?" Randy frowned.

"_No_. He's smelly and messy and loud."

"C'mon Shel, help Daddy feed the baby. He'll be really happy his big sister is helping out. And do you know who will be even happier? Mommy. Mommy will be so happy when she finds out you helped me out with feeding, changing, and playing with him," Randy stressed.

But little Stanley looked too nasty to handle and the little girl marched away, leaving her dad to wrap up his lunch as well as cleaning him up. Randy walked out into the living room to see Shelley looking up at him. He looked over to his son who was in his arms. Stanley was giving him a blank look, his big blue eyes staring intently. Randy bit his lip, knowing both kids were bored out of their minds and he had no real ideas as to entertain them. An idea then (sort of) popped into his mind.

"Say, why don't we head to the crafts store hm? See anything that looks like it could make a fun craft or something…"

Shelley frowned for a second before smiling. "Ya! Let's go do crafts!"

Sighing in relief Randy had his daughter put on shoes and a coat and he went to take Stan out of the onesie he had been in all day. The three of them headed off to pick out something fun to do at Hobby Lobby. Granted Randy hardly made things artsy so he was trusting his daughter to pick out something fun.

"Can we get these?" Shelley held out Popsicle sticks. Randy agreed, there was also something you could make with those. He himself found some fun googly eyes and pipe cleaners in fun colors. He allowed Shelley to add in a pack of construction paper into the cart too. That's when they ran into a woman in the store who also had a baby with her down the fake flowers aisle.

"Oh! Isn't he a cutie!" the woman cooed at the baby in basket's baby seat.

Randy smiled. "Oh yeah, he is isn't he? You have a handsome little guy too."

The woman had brown hair in an updo and in her arms was a young boy with a head of very thin fuzzy brown hair.

"Thank-you. His name is Clyde. He just turned a year old. How old is your baby?"

Randy smiled as he placed a hand on Stanley's tiny spiky-like black locks. "He's six months. His name is Stanley."

Both parents looked almost surprised but happy at finding out the names of the boys; happy in knowing they weren't the only ones out there who had given their sons an unusual name. Shelley however was getting annoyed at the attention her brother was getting. He always got attention from strangers anywhere they went!

"I'm Shelley and I'm four and my birthday's in a month and I'm in gymnastics and I like ponies," she said proudly.

The woman looked a little taken aback but smiled nonetheless. "That's good to know honey."

Randy had Stanley wave good-bye to the little boy, Clyde, a few minutes later. "Say goodbye Stan! Who knows, our kids may become best friends one day," he chuckled.

"Oh wouldn't that be funny? Well I don't plan on moving anytime soon so I'm sure they'll be classmates sometime in their life. It was good meeting you Randy."

Shelley had her arms crossed as they continued down the aisle. Randy asked her what was wrong and she flat-out said the baby always got the attention from everyone and never noticed her.

"Well that's not true honey. They notice you, you're four years old! Almost five! You're a lot bigger than the baby, how can they not see you?"

Shelley had the perfect answer: her parents always had Stan in a stroller, their arms, or the seat in carts at stores like today; you couldn't help but notice him. She however was too big for those sorts of things now and had to walk the majority of the time. Randy didn't know how to respond so he just told Shelley to continue to look for craft supplies. Ten minutes later they were spotted by a couple in their fifties who at once turned to beaming idiots at the baby boy in the cart.

"Oh look at his cute outfit!" The woman pointed out the green shirt with colorful fun letters spelling out 'Mommy's Little Monster!' and the darling brown pants.

'I know, what a charmer. Look at those chubby cheeks and little nose," the man beamed.

"He loves it when you stroke his cheek like this"- Randy touched his son's plump cheek, causing him to wiggle around happily.

"Look at those teeny little feet!"

"Excuse us but our daughter is pregnant with our first grandchild so we're really excited."

Having enough of this Shelley knocked over a few boxes of crayons and markers to the floor.

"Shelley!" Randy scolded.

Shelley said something forcefully to her father so the older couple couldn't hear. He was glaring at first before he sighed and nodded.

"This is my daughter, Shelley," he told the couple.

"I'm four and will be five next month and can run really fast," Shelley said, thrusting her chest out.

By the end of the shopping trip Randy decided to let his daughter's bad behavior go. She only wanted to be noticed by strangers as much as her brother was, he couldn't be angry with her about that. The two really didn't have any craft ideas on the top of their mind so Randy thought of the next best thing: he laid out all the items they had bought and made sure there was plenty of glue.

"Let's go make something nice for Mommy when she gets back okay?"

Randy placed Stan in a bouncy seat which he sat on the dining room table so he could overlook all of the action. Shelley took hold of a paper plate and began making what she said was a representation of Sharon onto it. Randy had no idea what he was doing; he was just gluing random things onto some paper more than anything. Stanley was giggling and kicking about the whole time, clearly enjoying all the colors and shiny things in front of him.

Shelley looked up, noticing her little brother's eyes were on her. He smiled when she looked up and held his arm out like he wanted something in it. Shelley looked around and spotted the bag of fuzzy pom-poms. She smiled and gave one to him. He didn't have a good grip yet but as soon as he had it in his hand he placed it in his mouth; thankfully Randy glanced up at the right time and raced over to take it out before his son choked.

"Shelley, you know not to give the baby anything small like that, he could choke!"

Shelley grumbled; she was trying to do something good for once, honest. Stan looked like he wanted to play with one of the art supplies so she gave him one! All in all though it had been a fun activity. Along with her mask Shelley drew something and decorated it with glitter and made a figure from Popsicle sticks and pom poms. By now it was almost four o'clock and Stanley was beginning to whine. Randy knew it was time for his second nap of the day so went to put him down as best he could which was never easy. It was still difficult for Stan to fall asleep even when tired; he liked being awake and being a part of what everyone else was doing. Randy rocked him for a little while before setting him down and rubbing his back, coaxing him to fall asleep. Stan cried off and on as he flopped his head around, both trying to fight off sleep and try to get comfortable. Randy then thought of something; he lightly stroked the soft hair and tiny head of his son. A half hour of work and the baby finally had shut his eyes and stopped moving around- for the most part.

Thankfully Shelley spent time in her room for 'quiet time' so Randy was able to relax by the TV, beer in hand. Man, those kids sure did tire one out, and now he could be away from crying and yelling until dinner time crept up. 5:30 and Shelley walked casually down, pony in hand. Randy knew he should wake Stan up now which again, he did not enjoy.

"I know baby, I know…" he said heavily as Stanley cried his little eyes out. But he had to make sure he'd get enough hours of sleep at night and he knew he'd be happy and awake five minutes from now. Randy bounced his son in his arms gently and rubbed his back. He placed a favorite stuffed blue zebra in the child's arms to calm him down. Instead Stan was interested in his daddy's face and began slapping his hands over it before pulling at his mustache. "Ahh! Okay son, let's not poke at Daddy's face now. No no, let's do something else…" he sniffed his bottom. "Like a diaper change…"

It was close to six now and Shelley was looking up at her father as he sat on the couch, playing with Stan on his knee.

"What's for _dinner_?" she moaned.

Randy frowned; he hadn't really thought of dinner to be honest.

"Let's go out to _eat_," the little girl said in the same whining tone.

Randy thought for a moment. "Yeah, why not?"

Shelley's bright brown eyes lit up. "Really? We can go out?"

"Yeah. I don't know what to cook here. This is supposed to be a fun day without Mommy, we should treat ourselves."

"Where are we going Daddy?"

Randy smiled. "Jeremy's."

Shelley clapped; Jeremy's was a family favorite that sold a variety of foods, from burgers to tacos and they hadn't been in a good few months. Randy packed up the baby bag and wrapped Stanley in a jacket and his little shoes before they were ready to go. Of course there were a few people there who cooed at Stan but Randy would ignore them if they didn't say anything to him. He told Shelley to do so too and not be upset if they didn't do it to her. Shelley wasn't as upset this time, she had her favorite chicken soft tacos for dinner and lemonade, she could really care less. Stanley was whining the whole time, not a big fan of the unusual scents and noises in the fast food joint. Randy had to constantly rock him as he laid in his car seat at the same time he ate his burger. He did feel bad when Stan began reaching his arms out to the milkshake they had gotten after but he knew it contained cow's milk and his son didn't need that at only six months so he had to let him cry. All in all he had had worse experiences eating out and once Stan was placed back in the car did he calm down. But it was now after seven and Randy knew he was due for another feeding.

As soon as they returned home Randy fed Stan a bottle of breast milk that had already been pumped by Sharon days ago and Stan drank it up. No doubt this was still his favorite thing to eat and if he could drink the milk the rest of his life over the jarred baby food, he would. Randy allowed Shelley to put on a movie- Aladdin before bedtime hit. Randy knew it was going to be a bit of a struggle tonight, bathing both kids. Stanley could easily drown in a tub full of water so he had to think about what to do when it came to bathtime. Since Stan needed more sleep he went to bathe him first. As soon as he was placed in the special baby support in the bathtub Stan began to squeal happily.

"Yeah, you like baths don't you kiddo?"

Shelley was there to look on and 'help.' Randy gently cupped warm water on Stan's body as he kicked about happily and chewed on a washcloth.

"Can I help?" Shelley asked.

Randy was hesitant, as both he and his wife always were when their daughter asked this concerning the baby. "If you want. I need to wet his hair so do you want to dump the water over him while I cover his eyes?"

Shelley smiled and nodded and did just this. She even splashed the few inches of water in the tub around for her baby brother's amusement to the surprise of Randy. But he was able to bathe him easier since Shelley was distracting him. He finally was finished with the first bath of the night and carefully took the wet wiggling baby out of the tub to dry him off. Randy laid out a towel on the floor for Stan to move around in his diaper on while Shelley was in the bath. Shelley was able to do a lot when it came to bathing herself but needed help when it came to her hair- it was long and there was no way she could shampoo it all herself.

By 8:30 Randy had both kids in Shelley's bed while he sat on to read to them- well Shelley anyway. It defiantly was a rare treat, Sharon took over bedtime battles and stories all the other nights. After three books Randy finally got to his feet, a sleepy Stanley in his arms.

"Thanks for the fun day today Daddy," Shelley said.

Randy smiled. "Hey, I had fun too. Mommy's going to be so happy when she finds out I didn't blow the house up huh?"

She giggled. "Yeah."

Randy had Stanley over his shoulder, rubbing his back as the boy sucked on a pacifier. "Thanks for helping me with Stan's bath. I think he really liked it."

"I guess."

Randy was sure his daughter loved her little brother, deep down. Something had to be there. Randy gave his daughter one last look before turning off the light and shutting the door. He made sure Stanley was full and dry before placing him in his crib. Stan didn't struggle for sleep this time and seemed only too happy to spread out on his own mattress. Hoping he'd sleep through the night like he had been, Randy stepped out.

Morning arose and as another topping to the fun Randy made pancakes. It was around lunch when Sharon and Maggie finally arrived back home. Shelley ran to her mother and began telling her everything that happened since she had been gone.

"We made fun stuff with art things. I made you a mask!" She held it up. "Stan made you something too." Shelley held up the project Randy had made for his son. It was a drawing of her with 'I love you Mommy, love Stanley' written on it.

"Oohh, these are beautiful, thank-you you guys." Sharon hugged her daughter and kissed her son's plump cheek. He smiled and began pulling at her hair. Shelley began talking with Auntie Maggie while Sharon looked around the living room and kitchen as she held her son in her arms. "Well everything looks like it was when I left."

"Oh come on now Shar, you really think I'd screw our kids up in one day? They had a great time. I even did things you didn't ask. Like run the dishwasher _and_ the laundry."

Sharon was raising a brow now at her husband, clearly suspicious. Her eyes were wandering around, trying to detect something amiss.

"Did Daddy do anything that's a no-no Stanley?" Sharon asked her son who just gave her a toothless grin and patted at her lips. She shrugged and kissed Randy. "Well I have to hand it to you; both the kids and the house look happy and normal. Thank-you honey."

As Sharon went off into the kitchen to prepare lunch for Stan, Shelley turned to her dad.

She patted his shoulder and whispered, "Do you think she'll find out that one blue sheet's missing?"

Randy bit his lip. "Shhh, it was old anyway, she'll never know we got paint on it and threw it out. Just don't say anything or we'll _both_ be in trouble."

Shelley smiled. "Silly Daddy."

Randy grinned back and winked at his daughter before they went to help out in the kitchen.

_Aww, that was great fun to do. It's always nice to show characters in a different light and here Randy is being a fun-loving father. The next idea should be up shortly so stay tuned and keep sending in your ideas!_

_LOL (lots of love): Rose, April 18, 2012_


	10. Over the River and Through the Woods

**OVER THE RIVER AND THROUGH THE WOODS…**

Shelley and Stan were really excited; they were on the ride to their grandmother's house to stay for the weekend. It had been a little while too; what with everything that had happened the past few months. Sharon and Randy splitting again shortly after their son's tenth birthday, moving, then getting back together again. Stan falling into a severe depressive state and experimenting with whiskey before seeking out a few other methods after he had been caught by his parents. But by Christmas the family was back on track to being happy and as normal as could be again. One of Stan's biggest wishes since he was little had come true that Christmas morning- his parents had given him a kitten. She was a tabby and white and he had named her Basha. But with all the insane stressful events the Marshes were under there was little time for a good ol' visit to grandma's house, and now, in February, they finally had a week to do just that.

"You kids excited?" Randy called as they were ten minutes away now from her home.

"Yeah!" the kids in the back smiled.

"I can't wait to tell her what's been happening at school," Shelley said.

"I can't wait to make dinner with her," Stan mentioned.

They finally made it to her home and the kids hopped out of the car with their bags and pillows. Shelley knocked on the door while their parents followed after. Grandma Mara looked a little surprised to see them there.

"Why that just took a half hour didn't it?" she smiled.

"Actually just at forty," Sharon checked her watch.

"How are you dear?" Grandma Mara hugged her only granddaughter.

"Good Grandma."

"And you Stanley?"

"I'm fine Grandma," Stan smiled as the woman gave him a squeeze.

She looked at her son and daughter-in-law. "I know you two have plans for the weekend but why don't you step in for a short while for some coffee?"

While his parents stepped into the house Stan immediately began looking for Chester, his grandmother's big orange tabby. He dragged a stringed toy around the living room and sure enough he felt a tug; a furry paw had grabbed at it. Stan allowed the cat to come out his hiding spot from under a chair and gave him a hug.

"Hey Chessie… how's my big boy? How's my big boy?"

Sharon and Randy ended up chatting with Randy's mother for close to an hour before they had to leave if they were to make it back home in time for their dinner reservations. Sharon gave her kids a hug and kiss and told them to behave before shutting the door behind her. Shelley and Stan immediately turned to their grandmother.

"What're we going to do this weekend?" Stan asked.

"I have a few fun things lined up. But first, let's put your things in your rooms okay?" Grandma Mara said as she picked up one of Stan's bags.

Grandma Mara lived in a typical grandmother-like home. It was small but filled with warmth and love. She had three bedrooms but only two could be considered bedrooms. The third was particularly small and held a daybed and her computer. The kids would always argue who got to sleep in the bigger bed. Stan usually lost since he was smaller, therefore could fit better on the daybed. He hoped he'd win the fight now though.

"I'm older and bigger so _I_ get the bigger room," Shelley taunted as the two made their way down the hall. This was always her argument.

"You always get the bigger room! I want it this time!"

"It's not fair if I have to fit my body on the daybed all night while you can fit on it more than me."

"It's not fair I always have to get the daybed just because I'm smaller!"

Shelley whacked him.

"Kids, kids, c'mon now, your parents just left. I don't want there to be any fighting to report back to them," Grandma Mara stepped forward. The two began their usual cases against their grandma, hoping she'd take one of theirs. "How 'bout this: since you two are staying two nights here one of you get the bigger bed one of those nights, then you switch."

"Awww," they frowned.

"And since Stanley here has defiantly been through a lot since his birthday, I think he should make the arrangements."

"I've been through a lot too! It wasn't only his parents who spilt!" Shelley glared.

"Shelley, your little brother never gets to be first in anything. Plus he's been battling depression, be kind to him just this once okay?" the old woman stressed.

Shelley made a fist, ready to strike Stan's grinning face. He chose to sleep on the bigger bed that night and would switch the next night. Dinner that night was chicken enchiladas with a side of cornbread and refried beans. Stan happily got his hands dirty in preparing the enchiladas while Shelley took over the cornbread. Once everything was dished out, the three sat around in Grandma Mara's round white table to eat. The two kids were soon dishing out on everything that had happened to them since they last spent time with their grandmother.

"I only have one C, the rest are A's and B's," Shelley boasted. "And it's only because I was having troubles when Mom and Dad split so I know I'll be able to bring up my grade easily."

"You have no idea how cute Basha is!" Stan spoke of the kitten his parents had gotten him for Christmas. "She loves playing with bottle caps and is so friendly. She sleeps on this purple pillow on my bed, and at night, on me."

Grandma Mara smiled, happy to hear the two talk about life with so much joy again.

"And I finally put Penny Manger in her place; she spread a horrible rumor about Krissa." Shelley made a fist. "She still doesn't know I did what I did to her. I'm sure she has an idea but no one ever found out."

"Shelley! How many times do I have to tell you to leave people alone? It's not that difficult," the old woman shook her head.

"Basha's favorite cat food flavor is chicken. Dad really hates how cat food smells but I don't care. Basha gets so excited when she knows I'm going to give her canned food, it's so cute," Stan went on.

"That's very nice dear." Mara only knew too well how badly her only grandson wanted a kitten his whole life. Now that he had one there was no doubt it would be the thing he would talk about for hours on end. Her kids took a break from talking about themselves and asked what they would be doing this weekend. "Oh I have a few things planned," Grandma Mara stated. "I was thinking we take a ride to Crescent Towne tomorrow."

Shelley and Stan whooped. Crescent Towne was a good two hours away but worth the drive. It was a community that lived a quiet and calm life. There were beautiful old homes to drive by and many quaint shops and restaurants that had been around for over one hundred years. One of Grandma Mara's friends lived there too and there was no doubt they would meet up with her sometime tomorrow. Sunday would be touch and go since their parents would arrive to take them back home before dinner since school was Monday. But neither Shelley nor Stan were worried, the magical thing about grandparents was there was always something to do and talk about that you wouldn't do with your own parents.

Dessert was vanilla cake with ice cream. As soon as the kids put away their dishes in the dishwasher Stan looked up.

"Hey Grandma, tell us a funny story about Dad."

Shelley gasped. "Yeah, tell us something."

Another great thing about grandparents was there was never an end to stories about their parents when they were younger and they didn't seem to care if they were embarrassing. Grandma Mara smiled and had the kids get cozy by the fire. Grandma Mara sat on the loveseat with each kid to the side. Chester the cat hopped up and plopped himself on Stan's lap. Grandma Mara thought for a moment before smiling.

"Did I ever tell you two about your father's first crush?"

The kids shook their head no.

"Well he was in second grade. Now this was before your mother moved out here. They met in fifth grade. This girl your dad had a crush on in second grade was named- oh what was it? Georgina Sheppard if I remember correctly."

"Georgina?" Stan made a face at the name.

"Of course he didn't tell me about her right away but one day I had found a paper in his folder during my usual scrimmaging. It was a red heart drawn in the middle with To Georgina written on top. I asked him about it and poor dear, his face went red quicker than an Easter egg."

Shelley and Stan laughed.

"Apparently he wanted to give his 'girlfriend' as he called her the picture but was too nervous of her reaction. Well of course I tried to tell your father as gently as possible it may be overwhelming for a little girl to get such a gift from another boy, so I told him to try another tactic first. Get them to know each other." The story ended up being more sad than funny; apparently little Georgina's family moved just as seven-year-old Randy was getting to know her. But there were a few funny stories that came after. Things about from when Randy was a toddler to pulling the beard off a mall Santa when he was five, finding out early on he didn't exist.

Finally it was 9:30 and time to get ready for bed. Stan snugged into the big full bed in the guest room and Chester hopped onto it, bumping his face on Stan's knuckles. Mara swore her grandson had a special way with animals, her cat normally didn't sleep with strangers and when he slept with her it was at the end of the bed. But Stan cuddled with the big thing and seemed to connect on another level. Grandma Mara read Stan a bedtime story before tucking the covers around him and turning the light off. Stan frowned as he stared into the ceiling; it was always slightly spooky sleeping in his grandmother's house at night. He could always see the shadows of the tree by the window sway in the breeze and cast upon the walls. Not to mention the scratching against the wood outside by the branches. But he was too old to sleep with a nightlight. He just drew in a breath and tried to think of happy things as he settled in for sleep.

Breakfast consisted of banana nut pancakes. Really, what was it with grandmothers and baking? Sure their mom loved to cook and bake but she was a busy woman. Both grandmothers never wasted any time showing their grandkids how to work about the kitchen and it was always a guarantee there would be fresh bread in the oven and cookies whenever they came over. Shelley and Stan packed up for a day at Crescent Towne and soon they were on the two-hour ride there. The one bad thing was they were forced to listen to old music the ride there. Their other grandmother allowed the grandchildren to control the music at times but Grandma Mara did not care for the heavier rock and pop music Shelley and Stan listened to.

They reached Crescent Park in due time and after parking began to walk down one of the streets lined with little shops.

"Any place in particular you two want to look in today?" Grandma Mara asked.

"McCoy's Toy Chest," Stan immediately said.

"The old antique store," Shelley spoke.

"Can I buy some candy?" Stan asked.

"Maybe a small bag but I don't think your mother will want to hear that's what you spent your allowance on."

Since they were in Colorado after all there were many shops that held souvenirs of all sorts and many animal-themed items and Wildlife Lodge was one of the first places they stopped in. Even though they had lived in Colorado their whole lives so far Shelley and Stan still became excited whenever they stepped foot into one of the stores. Perhaps it was the feeling they received; the owners with their smiling faces, the walls and floors made of wood or with carpet, and bumping into locals. It all gave off a very warm and cozy feel. Wildlife Lodge was one of Stan's favorite stores and somehow the aging shop owner knew him by name despite seeing so many faces the past twenty years running the place.

"What are you getting turd?" Shelley asked as they looked down a row of shirts and sweaters with animals on them.

"I don't know yet. I have forty bucks to spend and I wanna make sure I spend it on something I really want."

Stan was upset; he wished he had saved more money the past couple weeks. Being with Grandma usually meant special trips and treats and money he wanted to spend. But he had to buy that one stupid pair of earrings for Wendy since she started complaining he never treated her to anything. He would have had over fifty dollars now if he hadn't have done it! So he had to choose wisely, he still had the toy shop to hit too and hopefully candy. Almost twenty minutes of browsing Grandma Mara came up to him.

"Did you find anything special dear?"

Stan frowned. "I can't choose between the mug with the moose on it, the wood cutout with the picture of the fox, or this stuffed lynx," Stan held up the items.

Grandma Mara studied the things in his arms. "How 'bout this, I can either buy you your special gift here or at the toy store. What do you want to do?"

Stan had his grandmother purchase the stuffed lynx for him. He only broke out his stuffed animals to play with in private and now at the age of ten only wanted ones that were unique. He didn't have a lynx yet and it was a really cool animal and good quality too with accurate detail, priced at $20. They went into a few more shops before going into the antique store Shelley liked. Stan tried not to look too bored in here but it was difficult not to yawn at the old and boring things. Many items were actually priced high for they were antiques and rare and had to go to the buyer willing to spend the money on it. Thankfully they didn't stand around too long for Shelley didn't find anything she wanted so next up was McCoy's Toy Chest. Stan almost ran in, excited to look around. The cool thing about this store was how different it was from toy shops back in South Park. They sold many classic toys and board games and model kits of all sorts of things. There were also many animal toys and children's books. There were of course the newest dolls and characters strewn about as well.

"Oh wow Grandma, look at this one!" Stan picked up a boxed motorcycle kit. Grandma Mara had to smile as she looked at him; her grandson was never much into cars. Sure he had owned many toy cars in his ten years of life and would probably get more but when it came to how they worked or their inner mechanical ways, he passed. He was probably one of the only boys in his school that never saw the Disney movie titled Cars or the one who simply went crazy about them. Cars as toys were fun but that was about it. The vehicles he did like were airplanes, bikes, skateboards, and motorcycles. He had dreams of owning one someday although not be 'one of those fags.'

"That is a nice one. Oh look, they have one in red with black flames"- she showed him it.

"Oh wow!"

"It's $13.99 if you want one."

Again, Stan had to be diligent with his money. But this was about spending it on special things and he never saw model motorcycle kits in South Park so he bought the red and black one. He spent his remaining twenty-six dollars on a cool Garfield book and super-bouncy ball as large as a fist that glowed and had crazy lights. He was happy with his purchases but that meant he had nothing left-over for the candy shop. Grandma Mara did feel bad for they always stopped there every time he came out but she already had plans to treat her grandkids to ice cream after they had lunch. They walked past Colorful Candy and Grandma Mara saw Stan glanced back and cast his eyes down, a small frown on his face. He really didn't need any candy but sometimes it was too hard to say no to a child, especially if you were a grandmother.

"You may get a few things only," the aging woman said heavily.

Stan looked up. "I can?"

"But _only_ three things. I have treats planned for you kids already. Just make sure you don't tell your mother…"

Shelley rolled her eyes as they walked into the narrow shop; their mother already allowed her brother sweets whenever he wanted, she was sure it wouldn't make a difference if she knew. It was almost pathetic how many different sweets Stan loved. All flavors were up for grabs as were textures. Chocolates were always best but he loved chewy, hard and crunchy, gummy, and sour things too. The only thing Stan stayed away from was coconut and Shelley could understand; both kids were terribly allergic to it. Stan filled a small bag with a little scoop of maltballs, a few blue raspberry sour straws, and only four little chocolate covered gummy bears. But he knew he was lucky his grandmother allowed him to come in at all so didn't complain. Grandma Mara took her grandchildren to a sit-down burger joint for lunch that had that nice 50s feel to it. Yet another regular stop whenever they came up here, although there were other restaurants about so they didn't come as often. But once Stan took a bite of his BBQ bacon cheeseburger he was reminded once more it was indeed the best burger around. Grandma Mara began talking about what the rest of the day might bring.

"I did promise Caroline I'd stop by," she said, speaking of her old friend who lived in the town.

This was to be expected. It would get boring at times going over another old lady's house while she played chit-chat with their own grandmother but it wasn't too bad. Caroline lived in a house almost 100 years old so it was always fun to explore. Plus she had many old toys and games in the attic Shelley and Stan would break into. The poor woman had grandchildren of her own but her son and his family were currently living abroad in Sweden for his job so she didn't see them much. After lunch came ice cream from another local place along the streets. Stan was filling very full now but he still ate his caramel sunrise scoop as the three of them walked back to the car.

The drive to Caroline's was pretty as always, passing by the shops and other houses along the area. Ten minutes later they stopped in front of an old yellow home, Victorian in style. It did give Stan the creeps in a way; it looked like the perfect house for a ghost to haunt even though he knew it wasn't haunted. When the kids and Grandma Mara reached the door an old thin woman opened it and beamed in delight. She hugged Shelley and Stanley as she always did.

"So this was your surprise Mara. Oh what a lovely surprise it is. How are you dears?" Caroline asked.

"Good," Shelley and Stan said in unison.

"I just made some tea. Why don't we get comfortable in the sitting room?" The kids wanted to explore the rest of the old house but to be polite they sat down for tea and the little cakes provided. Stan was too full at that moment; he only had two petite fours before he was done. The kids didn't spend too much time downstairs before being allowed to explore the rest of the house. Not like there was much left to uncover for they had been over a good number of times in their life. And Shelley was past that stage really. Unless it was new she didn't care, she just wanted to explore Caroline's collection of books. Stan meanwhile still loved to explore and poke around even if he saw something before.

He quickly made way to the attic where most of the old lady's children's old toys and games were. Granted this was a 100-year old house so it was a little spooky up there. Shelley was always forced to come with him to the attic in the past whenever he wanted to go but at age ten Stan felt he could go up himself. He turned on the light where the stairs were before slowly going up. He popped open the door and clicked the light of the attic on. He frowned as he made his way slowly across the old floorboards, creaking beneath his shoes. He hated the sheets covering old boxes and those creepy old-fashioned stands that held a woman's gown. He then spotted a stack of games on the shelf and took a couple down. He just loved the nostalgic feeling from the old pieces and parts. He stayed there for a good ten minutes before he heard a creak. Heart thumping slightly harder he looked around him. He swallowed and told himself to calm down. He looked back at the game on the floor before he had the feeling eyes were on him. That's when he saw it- and ran down the stairs screaming.

"What's your problem turd?" Shelley asked, coming out of one of the bedrooms.

"I saw something up there!" Stan was shaking.

"Kids, is everything okay up there?" they heard their grandmother call from the stairs. Stan hurried down to her. "Stanley what's wrong? You're shaking."

Stan swallowed and pointed up as Caroline walked over.

"I saw something. I- I was in the attic just looking at stuff then I looked up and saw the white sheets but I could have _sworn_ one of the sheets was looking back at me!"

"_What_?"

"I saw a ghost! I thought I was looking at a sheet but it was a lady or- or something dressed in white! She had a face and was looking at me!"

With his recent ghost experience Grandma Mara thought it best to leave a half hour later. It was clear Stan wouldn't last any longer than that. They were going to pick up fresh ingredients for dinner that night and on the ride to the farmer's market Stan was asked again what it was he saw.

Grandma Mara sighed. "I do know Caroline had an aunt that lived in that house before she did. I'm not sure for how long but from what I heard she loved that house. Perhaps she is still resigning in it after she has passed on."

"It always has this creepy old feel to it but all the times we've been there nothing's happened," Stan noted, still disturbed by what he experienced.

"I guess sometimes spirits don't want to make themselves known. I don't know if you remember but there have been a few times when you were younger and you told us you thought something was watching you."

Stan didn't want to talk about it anymore; tonight he'd be staying in another old home in a room by himself. Sure it was his grandmother's and it was cozier and warmer and newer but it still was scary in its own rights. The three of them spent a short while picking up items at the farmer's market before it was finally time to head home. It was already after seven when they returned so the start of tonight's dinner had to begin as soon as they stepped in the door. Stan wasn't looking forward much to dinner; his grandmother had found a recipe for a chicken vegetable soup that she wanted to try. He loved chicken but vegetable were another story. They had picked up a select few he actually didn't mind eating but it was still a vegetable dish and he knew he'd be picking a bit at it. He helped his grandma and sister with chopping the veggies and it was close to eight when things were finally ready.

"Just try eating some of it, don't just eat the chicken," Grandma Mara was saying as her grandson moved his spoon to and fro in his bowl.

Stan sighed as he chewed threw a half-moon of zucchini and carrot. He loved the warm tomatoes but did not touch the peas and celery. He didn't feel much like eating for he couldn't stop thinking about the face he saw. He had never really experienced ghostly activity before and it was a bit unsettling.

"I know you're still upset dear but please eat. I know it will make your mother happy if I tell her you actually ate vegetables for dinner," Grandma Mara said.

Stan was tempted to spit out 'I'm ten, I don't care what Mom thinks of me and vegetables!' but he wouldn't talk that way to his grandmother. He had only really gotten angry with her a few times in his life and it made him feel awful. You just couldn't get mad at your grandmother.

"This house isn't haunted is it Grandma?" Stan had to ask.

The old woman had to smile. "No sweetheart. No one has died here, nothing has happened. It's just an older home."

"How old?"

Grandma Mara thought. "I believe it was built in 1953 or '54. But don't worry, nothing has happened here, I promise."

The three of them made s'mores for their late night snack and cuddled in the living room as the flames gently danced in the fireplace. It was now almost ten and everyone had showered and gotten into pj's.

"Grandma, tell us another story with Dad," Stan asked his grandmother as he licked marshmallow off his finger.

"Yeah, tell us something," Shelley got to her feet.

Grandma Mara grinned and shook her head; there never seemed to be an end to requests of their father since they could speak and there were always new ones to tell. However a select few they asked to hear again and again.

"Do you two want to hear about your father's first date with your mother again?"

"Yeah!" the two chimed in and each cuddled up next to her as she began the tale.

"Their very first one or the one that led to their marriage?"

"Their first one," Stan smiled.

"Well as you both know your parents knew each other and were friends since they were ten. Your dad always had a thing for your mom, I can remember that day he came home and told me all about the new girl in his class."

"Mom didn't really like him back though did she?" Shelley asked.

"She didn't hate him but she didn't like him in that same way. She just wanted to be friends. The poor things, they did get some teasing in school since they hung around a lot. Many people thought they should 'date and get it over with.' Well the two both went through their first boyfriends and girlfriends when they started Jr. High all the while your dad would constantly tell me he knew your mom was the one. He would break it off with Miranda Smith because he knew Sharon Kimble was the one to really go after."

Stan and Shelley smiled as she spoke even though they head the tale twice before.

"And your dad had good reason to chase after her. She was sought-after by several boys according to him by the time High School started. She, well, she was one of the first girls to develop…" Grandma Mara said uncomfortably. "I would ask your father why he liked this girl Sharon so much. I can still hear him go on about her blue eyes, soft brown hair, independence… finally one day a carnival came into town and long story short, your parents spent the night together there and turns out your mother had the same feelings as your dad," Grandma Mara recalled.

"Dad thought she was lying huh?" Stan asked.

"Unfortunately. He thought she wanted to make him look like an idiot since she apparently liked a friend of his at the time. But that one wonderful day came in which they decided to take their friendship a step further. They were fourteen and your dad decided to take her out to dinner…" Grandma Mara went on to explain how Sharon's expectations were crushed that night when Randy had his mother drop the two off at The Better Buffet, a budget-friendly place that didn't have the greatest report to date. The whole time Randy would go back and forth to load his plate again leaving his date at the table before she left in tears.

"And as you know their friendship was a little strained after. Only until they decided to go out a second date which was a lot smoother when they were eighteen. And as you know, the rest is a very long and complicated history," Grandma Mara concluded.

"Wow, Dad was a dick to leave Mom like that to get more food. And to take her to a buffet? How unromantic is that?" Stan yawned.

"I agree. Who wants to talk to someone when they say 'sorry, I have to get some more ribs'?" Shelley rolled her eyes.

"I plan to do a lot better things with my girlfriend when I'm fourteen," Stan pointed out.

"Who? Wendy or someone else?" Shelley smirked.

Stan bit his lip. "We-Wendy. Well I dunno, I can't predict the future," he said quickly.

Grandma Mara got to her feet. "Okay you two, time for bed. I know, come on, come on…" she said as they moaned in protest.

Thankfully Stan was very tired when he got under his covers and his grandmother's cat slept on the bed with him so he didn't fall asleep with thoughts of ghosts in his head. That morning Grandma Mara made pancakes from yesterday's left-over batter and the kids lounged around before their parents came by to pick them up. Of course they wasted no time in telling them all that had happened over the weekend although Stan wanted to wait later on to tell them his encounter at Caroline's house.

"I wish I didn't have to hug you goodbye already," Grandma Mara said heavily as she wrapped her arms around her grandchildren.

"We're only an hour away- less that that actually," Sharon smiled. "Why don't you come for the weekend sometime soon? I'm sure it's nice to walk around South Park now and again."

"Yeah Mom, Jimbo wants to see you but he's been busy lately. Come on over, stay a night or two," Randy stepped in.

"You _have_ to see Basha Grandma," Stan looked up.

"I guess I have to take up the offer don't I? I'll be in touch and make plans," the old woman smiled.

They saw their grandmother regularly but it was always nice to know they would be seeing her again soon. Sure they didn't live far but they weren't five minutes away either. And everyone had work, school, and a social life to attend to. It was defiantly something Mara enjoyed; she knew her son and his wife had their problems but when they did get back together again… to see them kiss and give each other pet names and to see her two grandchildren… it was like a happy little family once more and it warmed her heart greatly.

_Finally it is done! Writer's block took over for a while. I'm not positive what the next chapter will be so keep sending in ideas! Review please, thanks._

_(LOL) Lots of love: Rose, May 7, 2012_


	11. Are You Serious?

**ARE YOU SERIOUS?**

It really was the perfect April afternoon, a Saturday where the weather was nice and warm. A day no one could have a care in the world really. Stan, Kyle, Cartman, and Kenny were spending the day at Kyle's and it really was a perfectly good day so far. Mrs. Broflovski had allowed the boys to make root beer floats which were a rarity as she didn't allow many sweets or fun food in the house. And it was the real stuff too, not sugar-free as Kyle was diabetic. They had also watched Shrek 2, and played a round of Uno before Cartman complained this was getting boring so they sat around to try and come up with a new activity to do. As they always said, since it was Saturday they had to try to have as much fun as possible.

"Let's go outside," Stan suggested.

"Yeah, I'm feeling too cooped up in here," Kyle got to his feet.

"Let's climb the tree," Stan smiled.

"I don't know dude, my mom hates it when we do that…"

"Oh _please_, who cares?" Cartman rolled his eyes. "C'mon- I'll be General Cartman and shoot my Super Soaker at my enemies which will be _you_ guys down below."

"That's not fair, we all get to be in the tree Fatass," Stan glared.

The boys tried to sneak past Kyle's mother to the tree but as soon as she peaked out the window she saw four boys racing towards the large walnut tree out back.

"Are you boys climbing the tree?" She called, poking her head out the sliding door to the backyard.

"Aww c'mon Ma, can't we do it for once?" Kyle groaned.

Sheila frowned. "I suppose this one time…" they cheered. "But you four be careful! I mean it! No rough-housing at all you hear me?"

Kyle's backyard held an old and large walnut tree perfect for climbing. The trunk was thick and it took a small stool to hop to the first branches but once they were inside the fun really began. There were many areas in it they could go off to their own 'area' and make their own adventures. They hadn't done much but climb all around the tree before it became too warm so Cartman and Stan took off their jackets and hats and tossed them to the grass below. Kyle only took his jacket off but his hat was too much a part of him to take off just because it was a bit warm. That's when Stan spotted something in the branches. He lifted his head up and pointed.

"Hey look guys! I think I see a bird's nest in here!"

"Really? That's pretty cool," Kyle shrugged.

"I don't hear any chirping, I don't think the mother's around."

"So you think we should throw some eggs at people's doors?" Cartman smiled.

Stan glared. "No asshole! I wanna see if I can get closer- just a sec"- he climbed up one more branch in order to make it to another limb. This one was strong and long enough to support his weight for sure but he had to be careful crossing it or he'd fall over sixteen feet down. "Make sure I get across okay?" he told his friends as he got to the base of the limb.

"Why do you care so much about it dude? It's just a bird's nest, there may not even be eggs inside," Kyle suggested.

"I know but I never really see bird eggs and if I can now I will. Just for a moment then I'll come back." Stan wrapped his arms and legs over the tree limb and slowly crawled on his belly over to see the nest that rested just above it. Cartman, Kyle, and Kenny were within inches from each other in the tree looking out in case Stan wobbled. The ten-year-old finally reached near the end and very carefully reached up to the branch and stood on shaky legs to peer over at the nest. Three blue-speckled eggs sat inside.

"Are you done yet fag?" Cartman rolled his eyes.

Stan was grinning. "Aww, there are three little eggs in here, how cool."

"Wonder where the mom is," Kyle said as scooted a few feet onto the limb.

"Maybe a cat ate her," Cartman said from behind. Stan glared his way.

"C'mon dude, let's see who can reach the top of the tree first," Kyle said and moved back to base.

Stan nodded and slowly got down to his hands and feet to turn around too. Cartman was smiling now.

"Hey guys, wanna see something cool?" he gripped the limb and shook.

"Ahh! Dude what the fuck?" Stan cried.

"You wouldn't think I can shake the branch but I can. Even with Stan on it. Cool huh?"

"Why do you have to show us when Stan still has to get back over here?" Kyle shot.

"Because he adds an extra seventy pounds to the tree and I can still shake it. Cool huh?"

"Can I cross first you cow?" Stan was saying.

Cartman was still grinning. "I thought of a new game- let's see who can cross the branch fastest when it's being shaken. Stan's first."

Stan was looking down as he held onto the limb. "That kinda sounds cool but let's do it on a lower branch, one that won't break our bones if we fell."

Cartman rolled his eyes. "You're no fun- do it now- Kinny, start counting!"

"Fuck you dude," Kenny spoke.

"C'mon Stan cross it. Or are you a pussy?"

Stan glared at the name he was so often called by others. "I can do it dumbass."

Kyle rolled his eyes, knowing his best friend thought showing off like this was the best way to silence Cartman. Cartman began to shake the limb once more and Stan inched his way across on hands and knees- up until one leg slipped as did an arm and soon he was hanging on with one arm looped over the limb.

"Stan!" Kyle cried. "Stop shaking it and let him get off!" he spat at the fat boy who didn't seem too bothered at all at his dangling friend. Kyle went on the limb and carefully tried making his way to Stan to pull him up. Seeing that the Jew was now on it a gleam of evil truly gleamed in Cartman's eye and he shook again, as hard as he could. None of the shouts to stop from Kyle seemed to reach his ears. Kyle was able to reach Stan, now the tricky part was to get him up. He felt the limb bend ever-so-slightly; he really hoped it was able to support both their weight long enough for them to reach the middle of the tree again. He didn't have to worry for long; one more great shake was all it took for Stan to let out a cry and fall to the hard ground below.

Kyle whipped his head to Cartman who looked almost shocked at what had just happened.

"Opps," he shrugged.

Fuming Kyle quickly got off the limb and went down the tree, the other two following. Stan was on his side, eyes shut tightly as if he were in pain.

"Stan! Dude, are you okay?" Kyle kneeled down.

Stan opened one eye and seemed almost relieved he was alive. "I- I think so."

Kyle sighed in relief before holding out a hand for the boy to take and lift him to his feet. Stan hardly placed a foot on the grass before crying out in pain and immediately going back down.

"Dude! What's wrong?' Kyle looked alarmed.

Stan bit his lip. "It hurts- it hurts, my leg"-

Kyle frowned and decided to try to help him up; this time Stan's screamed in pain and clutched at his right leg.

"Ahhh! It hurts! It fucking hurts!"

Kyle looked to Cartman who was watching with a blank expression.

"Good job Fatass! You broke Stan's leg!"

"I- I did not! It- it can't be _that_ bad."

Stan had a hand on his lower leg, still on his side and moaning. Kyle ran into the house to find his mother. Both came running out less than a minute later.

"Stanley bubbe, what happened?" Sheila was down at his side immediately.

"I-I- ahh! Fell and- arrgghh!" he gasped.

"He fell from the tree. Fatass over here was shaking the limb he was on and he fell!" Kyle jerked his thumb to Cartman.

"Why- from how far up?"

Kyle pointed up. "That one there- I'd say sixteen feet minimum."

"Didn't I tell you boys I don't like when you climb up there? Something dangerous could happen!" Sheila scolded before softening at the boy on the ground. "Bubbe, where does it hurt?"

"L-lower leg," Stan bit his lip.

He was lying flat on his back now, left leg bent at the knee, right one down. Sheila carefully pulled up the material on the right side- or tried to at least. The jeans sat closely to the leg and it was not something that you could really bunch up. She asked him if he could put pressure on the leg and he said no. Knowing she had a real emergency on her hands now, Sheila rushed back in the house to fetch the phone before hurrying back out and dialed 9-1-1.

"911 emergency, how can I help you?" asked the woman on the other end.

"My son's friend hurt his leg falling out a tree- right?" she looked at the boys.

"Yeah because of Cartman!" Kyle said.

"-from a tree. Anyway, I think his leg is broken."

"Okay, how old is the child? Or is it a child that is injured?" asked the operator.

"He's ten. Please hurry, the poor thing looks to be in great pain," Sheila placed a hand on Stan's head and stroked a few locks of hair.

"Okay. Is the child conscious?"

"Yes."

"Are there any bones sticking out of the skin?" the lady asked in a businesslike way.

"I can't tell, I can't lift his jeans to check."

"Okay, do you know if the injury is above the knee? The thigh or hip?"

"I- I don't believe so. He said his lower leg hurts. Please help."

"Okay miss- may I ask your name and the name of the child?"

Sheila told the woman their names.

"Okay Sheila, listen to me, I know Stanley's in a lot of pain right now but unfortunately it might take a little while for the ambulance to respond."

"What?" the mother gasped.

"If he were having difficulty breathing or the injury was above the knee we'd come sooner. What is your address?" she waited for it. "It might take a half hour at least for an ambulance to arrive. In the meantime try to make a splint for Stanley to immobilize his leg and keep him calm. Help is on the way."

Sheila felt very panicked those thirty minutes waiting for the ambulance to arrive. She hardly had dealt with an emergency before. Her two sons never wound up in the hospital when it came to accidents- at least not at home. It was almost more nerve-wracking when the accident happened to someone else's child. If Stan had received a serious injury from falling from the tree she hoped Sharon wouldn't put the blame on her. Kyle came out bearing sheets and pillows to try and form a split but it was hard- Stan was in too much pain that any slight touch to the leg would cause him to cry out. Afraid he'd hurt his friend more Kyle relented, knowing the paramedics would do a better job when they came.

"Oh god it hurts…" Stan squeezed his eyes and placed his palms to them.

"Shhh bubbe, you're going to be okay. You'll be okay," Sheila soothed, going back and forth rubbing his shoulder and caressing his face.

Stan was trying very hard to hold it together but he never felt pain like this before. Not only that but since it was so strong he was certain he broke his leg and that scared him; a broken bone was something no one ever wanted to go through. He broke a finger before and badly sprained his arm but this…

"What happened anyway?" Sheila looked at the boys.

"Stan was on that branch way up there and Cartman decides it would be fun to shake it! Stan slipped and was hanging on by a hand so I went over to help him up. Then Cartman shook the limb again and Stan fell down!" Kyle explained aggressively.

"Oh you poor thing," Sheila said, squeezing Stan's shoulder.

"Mom? Did you even hear me? Cartman did it! It was his fault!"

"From what it looks like none of you boys should have been messing about in the tree to begin with. What was I thinking, allowing you to do it?"

Kyle stood there dumbfounded; his mother loved to play deaf to anything Cartman did. It was as if she didn't believe he was as evil as he always said he was. And just because Stan got hurt it was all their fault for being in the tree. It made no sense! Waiting for the ambulance to arrive was excruciating, tears were filling from Stan's eyes now as he tried not to scream but it was so hard to keep it in. He let out a few shouts now and again. Kyle decided to wait in the front to signal to the ambulance when they arrived. 35 minutes of waiting the sound came blaring down the street and Kyle waved at them to park in the driveway before leading them through the house out to the yard. The two men began asking questions as they knelt by the boy. The one man- Danny instructed Sheila to rest Stan's upper body against her so he could get better air flow into him. A mask was placed over his face as it was evident he was in need of more oxygen. After finishing his vitals it was time to inspect the said pained right leg.

"We're going to have to cut through your jeans in order to look at your leg okay son?" the other paramedic, Gabe told Stan gently.

Stan gritted his teeth as his shoe was untied and carefully pulled off as well as his sock. Gabe used special scissors and began to cut through the leg of the right side of the material up to his thigh. Finally everyone saw his right leg- it looked swollen and there was a slight dip in the skin where the break must have been.

"How high did you fall Stanley?" Gabe asked.

"He fell sixteen feet or higher," Kyle answered. "He was in the tree and our fat friend here shook it and made him fall!"

Cartman rolled his eyes.

"Sixteen feet? Oh dear, you should have been more careful son."

"I- was," Stan gasped.

"Do you have any pains anywhere else Stanley?" Danny asked.

"N-no. Just my leg. Ahhh!"

"Okay son, we're going to put a splint on your leg to keep it from moving around okay?" Danny explained. Stan cried out as two padded planks were fitted on the side of his leg and wrapped in special dressings. "We're going to go on a ride to the hospital okay kiddo?" Gabe went to lower the stretcher they had with them down. "Are his parents around?"

"We'll- we'll call them," Sheila said, face full of worry.

"Can any of us ride with him?" Kyle asked.

"Sorry but there won't be any room," Danny spoke. Stan was lifted onto the stretcher and led back out the house with the paramedics by the Broflovskis. The boy got one last look of his best friend before he was loaded into the back and the doors shut. Five minutes into the ride blankets were placed over him as was a mask pumping oxygen into his body. Stan hoped he wouldn't suffer an asthma attack from the intense pain but Gabe told him he'd make sure he'd do all he could so that wouldn't happen. The ten-year-old was biting his lip so hard it could bleed but he wanted to scream so bad from the pain and small dips in the road jarred the vehicle and made him cry out several times.

"Can't you give me something for the pain?" Stan asked through gritted teeth.

Gabe sighed. "Usually we like to wait until we know the extent of your injury before medicating son."

"Please? It hurts," Stan sniffed. He had never been one who dealt with pain well. He could hide it if he tried hard enough in front of the guys but he never broke a limb before and it _really_ hurt.

It might have taken more convincing if Stan was an adult, but the paramedics were working with a child here and they did not want to see him in great distress. Danny, who was driving, gave his partner the go-ahead and Stan almost wish he didn't ask for painkillers as he saw the man pull out what was needed to start an IV. He squeezed his eyes tight as he felt his hand being pierced by a needle. Shortly after they had arrived at Hell's Pass Hospital.

Meanwhile Sheila was driving herself and the boys to the hospital. She had her son phone Sharon and Randy to tell them what had happened. Even though he was worried for his friend Kyle would not stop explaining to his mother how Stan hurt himself.

"It was all Cartman's fault Mom!"

"I'm sure it was an accident. Oh the poor dear probably broke his leg," Sheila said, distracted.

Kyle glared as he crossed his arms; again, he felt bad for Stan but he wasn't too worried about him. It was just a broken leg, he wouldn't die. Although there was always a chance of surgery if the break was bad enough and he really hoped that wouldn't be the treatment.

Stan had been brought into the Emergency Room several times in his life but it didn't make each new visit any less stressful. He was still surrounded by people in scrubs and white coats and bright lights and scary equipment. And some of those times his parents were not allowed to be with him. Speaking of… Stan really hoped his parents would get here soon for he was sure they had to have found out by now. In the curtained-off ER a nurse was taking in Stan's vitals before she left saying the doctor would be in shortly. Two minutes later Stan's heart lifted when he saw his parents rush to the cushioned exam table.

"Stanley! Oh baby what happened?" Sharon hugged her son.

"I think I broke my leg"- Stan gritted through the mask that was still over his face.

"But how?" Randy asked.

"Cartman- he pushed me out the tree"- Stan said savagely.

At that moment a balding man came forward and greeted himself as Dr. White before he began his exam on Stan. He asked him to retell what happened before he touched spots on Stan's right foot and asked if he felt them. He also asked him to move his toes, just like the paramedics did. Happy to note there was still blood flowing to the extremity, Dr. White called up radiology and had Stan taken over for X-rays. While there Sharon and Randy caught up with Shelley who was forced to come along, as well as Sheila and the boys in the waiting area of the ER.

"Stanley just told us he fell from a tree," Sharon said, clearly upset her child was injured.

"Yah, 'cause tubby over here pushed him out!" Kyle jerked a thumb Cartman's way.

"What? This is _not_ my fault Jew! He was the stupid one to be on the branch in the first place!"

"Did you have anything to do with it Eric?" Randy asked.

"No! I would _never_ push him."

"You would so!" Kyle yelled.

"Boys, calm down," Sheila said.

Sharon shook her head. "I'm sure it was an accident. But I still can't believe he fell from a tree. How high up was he?"

"Sixteen feet," Kyle muttered.

They all had to wait over an hour for any word on Stan, not like this wasn't news. Hell's Pass wasn't a large hospital and served locals more than anything and certain departments would get backed up rather quickly. Radiology was one of them for there seemed to be no end to people who may have broken a bone. Finally the sound of shoes on tile walking their way was heard and Dr. White's body popped in front of them.

"Mr. and Mrs. Marsh? If you'd like to follow me, I'll tell you the latest on Stanley."

Kyle looked up. "Can I come too?"

"Sorry son but parents only."

Even though he knew that would be the answer he still wanted to ask. Sharon and Randy followed the man down the hall and into the same Emergency Room Stan were brought to earlier. Dr. White closed the curtain around them.

"I broke my leg didn't I?" Stan asked miserably. He didn't have the oxygen mask over his face anymore but it was still near in case he felt his chest tighten up again.

Dr. White cocked his head to the side and gave a slight grin. "Well, sorry to tell you son but yes, you did."

"Damnit! Mother fucking Cartman!" Stan cried, crossing his arms.

"Stanley! We know you're upset but don't use words like that in public, you hear?" Randy scolded.

Dr. White blinked before pulling out a large tan-colored envelope and the films inside. He placed them on the nearby light box and switched it on.

"Stanley here broke his tibia- the bone to the front of the leg"- he pointed out. "It's a simple oblique fracture." He pointed to the leg where a small slanted gap was shown a couple inches above the ankle.

"Aww man," Stan moaned.

"Will he need surgery?" Sharon had to ask, squeezing her son's shoulder.

"I would say a colorful cast on that leg is all that's really needed. You're very lucky son, I've seen many people who have fallen from a tree and sustain much worse trauma," the older man explained.

"Ya me," Stan rolled his eyes.

Stan had to wait a while until he'd be ready to have his leg stabilized and wrapped up. In the meantime his parents tried to lighten the mood of their obvious enraged son by telling him he could pick where they went out to eat for dinner after he was released from the hospital but he just simply muttered he 'didn't care.'

"Or- or ice cream. We could go out for dessert instead if you want. We haven't done that in a while," Sharon suggested.

Stan sighed. "I don't care Mom. I don't care about anything but beating Cartman's ass for doing this to me!"

"Hey now, don't be too upset," Randy said lightly. "Kids break bones all the time. You yourself have already broken a finger and sprained your arm before."

Stan just moaned as he covered his face with his hands. Nothing could be worse than a broken arm or leg. It meant he could no longer play baseball, football, soccer, until who-knew-when. He'd have to sit out of karate and would have to take special precaution when it came to baths or showers. It would take longer to go anywhere and be a nightmare going up and down the stairs at home each day. He'd be afraid he'd step on a paw or tail of his dog Sparky or his cat Basha. There were too many things to hate about the situation he had gotten himself into. No, what _Fatass_ did to him. It was no one's fault but his.

What felt like almost an hour, Stan was unhooked from his IV line and taken into another room where two nurses specializing in orthopedics went to place a cast on Stan's leg.

"What color would you like sweetie?" asked the rounder of the two.

"I don't care…"

"Stanley"- Sharon said sternly.

Stan rolled his eyes. "Blue. A dark blue."

Rolls of wet bandages were rolled around his leg starting just under the knee and stopping midway in the foot. The whole process took 40 minutes and Stan was beyond exhausted and irritated by this point. He was then asked if he'd rather have a wheelchair or crutches. He opted for crutches stating a wheelchair would really make him look like a crippled kid. With another 20 minutes of instructions on how to use the crutches did Dr. White step in for last-minute information himself.

"Is it going to heal quickly?" Stan moaned.

Dr. White bit his lip with a slight smile. "'Fraid not son. I'd say you'll be in a cast for at least six weeks. This one for one week, but next week you'll be placed in a more stable and permanent cast."

Stan groaned. Dr. White went over proper care of the cast and his next appointment before Stan finally was released from the hospital. It was now close to 8 at night and Cartman and Kenny had long gone. Sharon had given her son his poof ball hat to hopefully make him feel a little comforted and not as upset but the scowl on his face did not lift. Stan felt too mortified by his injury that he had his dad carry him out to the waiting room where his sister and the Broflovskis still were.

"_Finally_," Shelley said heavily as she got up from her chair as Randy set Stan down.

Kyle hurried over. "Dude, are you okay?"

Stan talked to the floor. "That assface broke my leg. I need to be in a fucking cast for at least six weeks."

"Are you serious? I can't believe he actually did that! Willingly! He wanted to prove how strong he was? What was he thinking? He"-

"Let it drop okay? My blood's boiling too much already."

Sheila's face was full of worry as she went over to the Marshes. "I am so sorry for what happened earlier Sharon. I should have been watching the boys more carefully."

Sharon rubbed her eyes. "It isn't your fault Sheila; the kids were going to do what they wanted no matter what. They love that tree in your yard. Accidents happen and as much as I hate to say, boys will be boys."

Even if Sharon seemed okay with what happened it was going to take Sheila a little while longer to accept it, she still felt very responsible. It was now due time to leave Hell's Pass Hospital. Stan demanded to be carried off again. On the ride home his parents kept asking him where he wanted to eat but he kept saying he didn't care. He just sat there gripping his hat, still in disbelief as to what happened hours ago. Randy finally just stopped at the nearest Cowboy Burger drive-thru for their late dinner. When they arrived home Sharon, Randy, and Shelley left the car but Stan stayed inside. He just did not want to go out; he did not want to do anything.

Someone who was _supposed_ to be his friend broke his leg. They caused him to fall out a tree and fracture his leg as he touched ground. This was not something the ten-year-old would forgive and forget in a day or even a week. He didn't even want to look at Cartman for a very long time. A half hour later Randy's head appeared and he unlocked the door across Stan. His son was sitting in his seat, arms crossed, anger all over his face, hat ruffled and askew on his head.

"C'mon son, you should get inside, it's getting really cold out."

Stan 'hummfed'.

Randy sighed. "Look, I know you're upset but you need to come in. Your mother wants you to eat, you can't stay in the car all night long or you'll get sick. Let me carry you in, you can have your bacon cheeseburger, fries, and chocolate shake. We can find an old sock to put over your exposed toes on your broken leg. Or Mom can knit you something really warm to put over it, don't want your toes to freeze off the next month or two do we?"

Stan sighed.

"Sparky and Basha want to say hi."

Stan looked up. "Okay."

After eating, a special milkshake treat, and love from his pets Stan felt slightly better. His mother went about his room to make sure he wouldn't fall over anything and gave him a little bell, the one she usually gave him when he was sick in bed, if he needed anything from her. He sat at his computer talking with Kyle and telling him he wanted to get back at Cartman so bad. Kyle simply told him if he wanted to, go for it, just make sure he didn't get in too much deep shit for it, or injure himself further. At this point Stan could hardly care, he wanted revenge and it would be worth it if Cartman could feel terrible for the cast wrapped around his leg now. The perfect thing would come, he knew it.

_Do I really need to explain myself once more about my attraction to medical things? Sorry for the lack of updates in a while, I've been in Vegas for a few weeks. What I was wondering is if you would like to see a part two to this, where Stan gets revenge on Cartman. I don't have an idea in my mind yet but I feel I could do it if one pops. If you want it tell me. Until then, leave a review! _

_Lots of love: Rose, June 27, 2012_


	12. Messy Day

**MESSY DAY**

A/N: This idea came from How the Darkness Sounds. In there, Sharon recalls when her boss yelled at Stan when he was little after making a mess in his office. Here is that day. Enjoy!

Four-year-old Stan was really excited, as soon as preschool was over his mom would be picking him up and taking him to her work where he'd be spending the rest of the day at. He had only been there a few times but was too young to remember much. But it meant he would be spending the day with her and not with a baby-sitter and Shelley. Plus it was a Friday and overall Fridays were always the best day of the school week. To top it off his mother had promised him a special treat for he had been so good all week and he could not wait to find out what it was. As soon as Miss Claridge declared class was over, Stan hurried to the door to see his mom already waiting outside it.

"Mommy!"

"Hello sweetie!" Sharon bent down to give her son a hug. Miss Claridge was chuckling behind them.

"Stanley dear, you are in such a hurry you almost forgot your things!"

Stan paused and gasped. "My stuff! Lemme get me stuff. Don't leave yet Mommy."

"I'm right here," Sharon said amused.

"He's been talking about how he's spending time with you at 'your work' all day," the teacher said to the mother.

Stan returned from his cubby with his little red backpack and holding up some sort of art project in his hands. Sharon had to help him in his coat for he was trying to explain his project to her at the same time.

"-and we had to color one of the Forest Friends and color them somewhere usin' all the colors of the rainbow. I chose Buster Bunny, see? He's red n' blue 'cause I like those colors best. Miss Claridge put a Mickey sticker on it. What's that say?" he pointed to the words 'great job!' under the picture of Mickey Mouse.

Even though he was excited to go with her to her job it was always difficult to get her son moving along from school. He had to say goodbye to his friends and simply liked to take forever to leave. Sharon was happy Stan wanted to spend time with her at Tom's Rhinoplasty; she of course made sure it was okay with her boss first. Dr. Tom Marden said he could come as long as he didn't make a mess. He wasn't the biggest fan of kids so she was a little surprise he had okayed it at all. She had packed plenty of books and quiet toys with her to entertain her son but she hoped he wouldn't get too bored too quickly. They had to spend the whole of five hours there before the day was over. But she was looking forward to it too; she knew the girls she worked with loved when one of them would bring their kids in to say hello. Plus there was many days Sharon wished she could have her son there with her, she hated waiting until dinner to see him most days.

The ride to Tom's Rhinoplasty was only ten minutes from the school yet Stan spent all of those ten minutes talking about everything that happened in class today. Some adults, even parents would get annoyed listening to a four-year-old go on and on about something but Sharon didn't mind the slightest; she knew these times wouldn't last and in five years it would be like pulling teeth to get her son to talk about his day. They drove into the parking lot that served for the various businesses on James Street and Sharon took hold of her son's hand and a bag from the trunk before she had a short prep talk with him.

"Remember Stanley, you listen to Mommy as soon as we get inside okay?"

He nodded.

"Don't bother people in the waiting room if they don't want to be bothered. Don't make a mess at the front desk or go anywhere or do anything without asking first. Be sure to tell me if you have to use the potty, especially if it's 'number two', understand?"

Again Stan nodded.

"Speak softly; I do not want to hear any yelling or screaming from you. Do you remember when you are allowed to scream?"

"If there's a fire, earthquake, snowstorm, or med'cal 'mergency," Stan recited.

Sharon couldn't help but feel a little anxious; her son wasn't bad but he did get in trouble pretty easily. He was full of curiosity, more so than the average preschooler and loved talking with people and playing with things that weren't even toys. But if the rules were laid out days before an event, he could usually follow them with fewer tantrums from both ends. The two walked into Sharon's work place and instantly fellow employee Becky gasped upon the new arrival.

"Oh Sharon, is this little Stanley?" she got out from her post from the front desk and over to them. Thankfully it was slow at this point as it usually was around noon.

Stan shyly said hello at the older woman.

"Oh look how much you've grown. Last time I saw you you were two!"

"I just got back from preschool. We learned 'bout the seasons today. Right now it's spring," Stan told her. Becky laughed before saying she needed to find Gina so she could see the boy as well. Stan was as polite as he could be to these ladies his mother worked with but as soon as they were out of earshot he whined to her about being hungry. Sharon took her son to the small lunchroom in the back to get some food into him before a meltdown began. She took out two bags, one for her and one for him. Inside his was a peanut butter and jelly sandwich, a Tupperware with sliced strawberries, and a Capri Sun.

"Do you want me to show you the special treat you get for being such a good boy this week?" Sharon asked.

Stan nodded excitedly. Sharon pulled out a twin pack of Hostess Chocolate Cupcakes.

Stan gasped."Choc'late cupcake!"

"Now remember, you get to eat one now but you have to save the other one for tomorrow okay? I don't want to hear any whining about the second cupcake okay?"

"Thanks Mommy!"

"But you have to eat your lunch first then you can have your treat."

It had been a nice and calm lunch but as soon as they were finished Sharon had to go back up to the front desk. Since the space was large enough, Stan was able to take a seat on a stepstool from the clinic behind the desk, out-of-sight by the people sitting in the waiting room. Stan was given some scrap paper and crayons to color with which he did quietly for a half hour before he had to pee. Letting Becky handle the man who was at the desk now Sharon quickly took her son to the bathroom. When they stepped out they ran into Dr. Tom.

"Doctor! Hello," Sharon smiled.

He nodded with a grin before looking down. "So uh, who's the little guy?"

Sharon placed a hand on Stan's head. "It's my son. Remember I told you I was bringing him in today?"

"Right, right. So son, coming in to get your nose fixed?" the man joked but Stan's eyes went wide and he hid behind his mother's legs.

"I wouldn't say things like that Doctor, Stanley's terrified of doctors and clinics as it is," Sharon said quietly to him. After telling him it was a joke she tried nudging her child forward to greet the man.

Dr. Tom got to his knee. "Hey there Stan, I don't know if you remember me but I remember you. I saw you last year and the year before that. I even remember your mommy bringing you in when you were just a baby! This tiny little thing."

Stan couldn't help but giggle.

"So what grade are you in? Kindergarten now?"

"_No_," Stan said. "I'm only in preschool."

After a few more words Sharon had Stan go back out behind the desk for her boss wanted to tell her a few words.

"Remember Sharon, I don't want to have a child running around her yelling all afternoon, got that? No mess, no walking into rooms without asking. No disturbing other patients or people waiting out there."

"I know, I've been going over everything with him all this week," Sharon reassured.

"It's okay to bring your kids in once in a while but they have to keep to themselves."

"Trust me Doctor; I'll make sure my son behaves all day." As soon as he left Sharon felt those nerves hit once again. Her son wasn't a bad kid, he just did what other four-year-old boys did and unfortunately some of those things involved running and screaming and playing around. She couldn't punish Stanley for doing what was normal for his age but she had to make sure he did indeed listen. Her boss wasn't exactly a 'kid person' and any kind of mess might make him panic. But Stan had been good all week; surely he could last one more day. If anything he'd grow tired and need a nap which she was prepared for.

Two o'clock had rolled by and at this point Stan was sitting on a chair out in the waiting room with a book in hand but it was clear he was getting bored. He slumped into the chair and was holding On The Farm upside down. He sat like this tapping his little shoes together for a few minutes before finally sitting back up.

"Mommy!"

"Shh, I'm busy right now," Sharon told him before turning back to the person she was on the phone with.

"But _Mommy_…"

"Shhh, later sweetie," she put her fingers to her lips.

Stan got up and ran to her behind the desk. "Mommy, I want my cupcake."

Sharon wasn't listening, just talking on the lady who was on the other line.

"Mommy, can I have my cupcake?" he tugged her pants.

Sharon gave him a firm look and put her fingers to her lips; Stan shut his own mouth. He knew this was the sign she gave when she was too busy talking to another grown-up or he had said something he wasn't supposed to so he _had_ to be quiet. A couple minutes later Sharon got off the phone and faced her son.

"Didn't we already go over you not calling for me when I am talking with someone else unless-"

"There's an 'mergesy, yes," Stan finished. "But it's really important this time Mommy!"

Sharon sighed. "Fine, what is it?"

Stan blinked. "I want my cupcake now."

The way a little kid thought…

"That could have waited Stan." She rubbed her eyes.

"Can I eat it? I promise to not bring it out here, I'll stay in the lunch place the whole time, promise," Stan said.

Sharon had to allow him to; a man had just walked up to the desk. Stan promised three more times he would eat his cupcake (and _only_ one) in the lunchroom before he scampered off to do so. It was really the best thing at the moment; Dr. Tom was currently in surgery with someone and he didn't need to hear knocking outside the OR by a highly curious little boy. Plus there were a few toys in the bag she had bought that he would no doubt discover when he got his cupcake. Stan happily hopped up the table where his mom's bag was and took out the twin pack chocolate cupcakes. He also found a little bottle of milk with straw in her lunch cooler he knew had to be for him too; he couldn't eat chocolate without milk. He knew it was best not to bother his mother at the moment so Stan opened the cupcakes with a puncture by a pen. He took out one cupcake and wanting to show his mother he was a good boy, put the other cupcake back in the lunch bag. Stan took a bite of his snack and looked around; it sure was boring in this special lunch room. He saw a TV in the corner but it was not on and he did not know how to turn it on. He was sure he'd be in trouble if he did it anyway. He sat there not eating for a couple minutes before a smile grew on his face. He hopped off the table, cupcake and milk in hands, and went down the hall.

He ran into one man coming out of a room but that was it. Stan looked around and then looked up at a door- it was closed of course. A plate that read Doctor Tom Marden was next to the door but Stan couldn't read it. He set his snack on the floor and jumped up to the handle and turned- it popped open! He picked up his snack, stepped inside, and closed the door behind him. He looked around; the office was a little small but to his four-year-old mind, it was plenty big. It looked like any other grown-up room- books on bookcases and cabinets and a desk. All pretty boring. But he himself was bored and in need of exploring so this would have to do. He walked around, running his hands on the sleek desk near a wall, leaving chocolaty smears on it. He then saw a blue ball of some sort sitting next to the desk. Excited he found something cool Stan got on the chair by it for a better look.

The blue ball sat in some golden thing. Stan placed his hands on it and gasped when it tilted.

"Wow! How cool!" Stan moved the globe around and around, getting many kicks of the spinning. He had never seen a ball like this before, and he loved the images on it, it almost looked like a pirate map! "Ahoy mates! Captain Marsh and his crew hid tha treasure…. Here!" he spun the globe about and placed a messy hand in Antarctica, although not really knowing he had done so. Wanting to look around more, the little boy went to the cabinets.

Stan wondered if they were the kind that opened easily or not. The ones at his dad's work place didn't open easily which was no fun. He saw a little button to the side of one cabinet and after a few failed attempts, was able to open the drawer. He leaned his nose over to the files that sat inside. Too curious for his own good Stan ran his hands over the top before pulling one out at random- and a dozen papers that were inside fell out.

"Oh no!" Not wanting to get in trouble Stan tried to get the papers back in the folder and stuffed it back into the cabinet where it stuck up just a little bit. A short time had passed and Stan nearly jumped out of his skin when he heard the sound of a man's voice on the other side of the door. He ran to hide as soon as the door handle turned.

When Dr. Tom's head faced his office his eyes almost jumped out of their sockets. His office was a complete mess. Little Stanley was only in there for twenty minutes but it looked to be longer by the way the room was set. Folders and papers strewn about the floor, a small potted plant turned over, books were on the floor, and noticeable smears were on almost everything.

"What- what in the hell happened in here?" the man cried out. He looked around, hand running through his shiny black hair. The office wasn't big so he didn't have to travel much until he spotted a foot under his desk. He bent down to see a terrified boy under it. "Stanley?"

Stan backed further into his corner under the desk.

"Stanley get out here right now!" Dr. Tom ordered. The preschooler did not budge. "Now young man, I don't want to have to drag you out myself. Out- _now_."

Stan slowly crawled from under the table but ran to the wall after.

"Look at what you did to my office! Look at it!" he yelled.

"I- I-I"- Stan stuttered.

"What were you thinking? How did you get in here? Look- just- just look at this mess you created!"

"S-sorry," Stan squeaked.

"Books and papers all over the floor. Chocolate handprints all over!" He glared down at the child. "What were you thinking? How did this happen? Do you know how much you just ruined? It's going to take forever to clean and organize everything now young man! Stanley you will look at me when I'm talking to you!"

Stan shook in the corner of the wall, tears burning his eyes. He did not like being yelled at. He wasn't done so too often by his parents, at least not by his mom. Grown-ups pointing and shouting at him frightened him. He really did something bad and he was going to be in so much trouble now. A couple minutes of yelling later the door opened and Sharon stepped in.

"Dr. Tom what is it?" she turned to see her son looking incredibly small, almost sitting down in the corner.

Dr. Tom glared his way at Sharon. "Look at what your 'precious son' did to my office Sharon!"

Sharon took a glance around. "What went on in here?"

"I'd like to know that myself! And look at these handprints! Just what were you doing with food in my office young man?"

Sharon looked at her son. "Did you bring your cupcake in here Stanley?"

"I'm- I'm sorry! Really!" the boy cried.

"How did you get in here? What made you think it was okay to go in here at all?" he then looked at his employee. "Did you allow him to go wherever the hell he wanted to?"

"Of course not! Stanley, I told you to tell me where you were at all times. You promised me you would stay in the lunch room," Sharon said sternly.

"Oh, so you went against your mother's back and went exploring on your own? Do these books not look expensive to you? And this desk is brand-new! And it's covered in your friggin' finger prints now! Like I'm not busy enough to now have to spend tonight cleaning this mess that you created instead of going home?" Dr. Tom raged on.

Sharon however was hardly listening to his rants. Her son was stock-still in fear now and she knew how he was, yelling was not a good way to get her son to listen, or for any child to listen for that matter.

"I'll take it from here Tom," Sharon stepped in front of him and went down on her knees to her son.

Dr. Tom crossed his arms. "Don't go soft on him Sharon, I hear your stories. Your son does things like this all the time."

"Let me handle it okay? He's my child." Sharon hugged her son. Stanley broke down on her shoulder and let out a screechy sentence but she was sure he had said 'I'm really sorry Mommy.'

Sharon went into the waiting area and found Becky who was thankfully free. She told her to follow into the lunch room and to keep an eye on her son. She had sat him on top the table and placed her hands on his knees. "Stanley hon, I need to talk to Dr. Tom okay? Stay with Becky at all times okay? Do you understand me?" The boy nodded as he had his hands pressed on his teary eyes. Sharon looked up at her co-worker. "Could you please take him to the bathroom to clean him up? Thank-you so much."

There were a lot of raised voices back in Dr. Tom's office between Sharon and him.

"I don't want you to walk away from this like it's nothing!" he argued.

"I know what my son did was wrong and I am angry he did it too. I will be talking to him later and he will be punished. But I do not want to hear you yelling at him again, understand?"

Dr. Tom raised his brows. He normally got along fine with his employees but when arguing with a mother, he never won.

"I'm just telling you Shar, he needs more than 'being talked to'. He's always doing things like this. If you tried something else"-

"You've only seen him a few times in his life!" Sharon said wildly. "And I know what you're thinking but I am not going to hit my son. It's such an out-dated and wrong way to punish a child. I know my son and smacking him and yelling will only make things worse. Let me deal with it. I'll make it up to you; I'll make sure he makes it up to you for what he did."

Dr. Tom sighed. "I hope you realize this means I will not be allowing him or any other kids to be coming in for a very long while."

Sharon sighed. "I know. And I'm sorry. I don't know what went wrong. I should have been better prepared."

All the man could do was nod; he didn't want to do anything to Sharon personally, she was a very good employee. She was right, this was between her and her child. Poor little Stanley was scarred the rest of the evening and night after what happened. He barely ate dinner and felt even more horrible when his parents lectured him on what he did wrong. He knew what he did wrong, he _knew_ he shouldn't have walked off without telling his mommy, he _knew_ he shouldn't have opened the door and walk in, he _knew_ he shouldn't have done any of the things he did in the office. But on and on they went until finally it was time to get ready for bed. After his bath Stan settled into bed to have his mom tuck him in.

"Can- can I have a story tonight Mommy?" he asked softly.

Sharon gave a slight frown. "I don't think you deserve a bedtime story after all the rules you broke today."

Stan looked down as he held onto lovey Ruffy. "I know everyone hates me now."

Sharon sighed. "We don't hate you honey, we are just very upset with you." How she wished her son could make it up to Dr. Tom himself. Show him he knew he was responsible. But she knew her boss and a 'sorry' card with a four-year-old's scribbles wouldn't do anything. She then thought of something. "Stanley, what do you think you could do to make Dr. Tom feel better?"

The boy thought for a few seconds. "Say I'm sorry…"

"Anything else that might make him feel like you are _really_ sorry?"

"Umm… give him a cookie?"

Sharon smiled. "When you made a mess at Grandma's house with your muddy shoes on her floor, what did you do that made her really happy?"

Stan thought. "Helped her wif it. I cleaneded the floor wif her real good." He then smiled. "Hey Mommy! Maybe I can help Dr. Tom clean the mess I made _there_."

Sharon smiled. "I think that is a great idea sweetheart! I will tell him tomorrow okay?"

Dr. Tom wished he knew what he was getting himself into the next day when he agreed to allow Stan to help him clean up. Before they began Sharon went over things with both her son and boss. Again the man did not want to be told what to do and not do by an employee but if he went against something Sharon had said he could lose her as an employee and a friend. If she found another job out there she would leave. So he had to bite his tongue when it came to the four-year-old. He was there to help. And there was to be no yelling or shouting of any kind or causing tears to fill Stan's eyes.

"So um, do you like cleaning back home?" Dr. Tom asked as he handed over a damp washcloth to the boy.

"No, I only do it when my mommy or daddy tells me," Stan said calmly. "I like baths. I like cleaning myself in da tub. Do you?"

"Umm, ya, sure. Why don't you start wiping off these hand prints of yours on my desk okay?" he couldn't help but shake his head and grin. "Wow, for such a little guy you sure made a mess didn't you?"

"It was the cupcake and my milk. My mommy said I couldn't have the other cupcake after I did this. It had two cupcakes in the package." Ten minutes later Stan went over to the potted plant he had knocked over yesterday. He picked it up on its side where more dirt fell onto the floor. "Hey Dr. Tom- whatta you want me to do wif this?"

Dr. Tom sighed; having a four-year-old helping him clean was certainly going to take more time than he thought, and be more entertaining. He didn't hate kids, he just wasn't used to them. Guess Stanley Marsh was going to make him go through all the motions once the day was through.

_I really wanted to do this as soon as I thought of it. I didn't place it in the Tales of Toddlerhood section because stories there involve all the boys. There will be a part 2 to Stan's broken leg story next. In the mean time, please review this!_

_Lots of love: Rose, August 21, 2012_


	13. Revenge is Bitter

**REVENGE **

A/N: Sequel to 'Are you Serious'? Writer's block struck me once again. Terrible disease it is. But alas this is finished.

It had been one week since Cartman caused Stan to fall out a tree in Kyle's backyard sixteen feet up, causing him to break his leg. Unfortunately Stan was going through all the bad things he knew he might face after the injury. Going up and down the stairs took forever; he now had to use a stepstool to hop on his bed, everyone at school or the store stared at him, he couldn't participate in any sports or karate, walking on crutches scared his cat Basha away, and of course, bathing. He could no longer take an easy shower or a relaxing bath. He now had to take a bath in shallow water with a special leg cast cover from the drug store that went over the leg above the knee so no water could get in. Even more humiliating he had no yet gotten the hang of going in and out the tub so had to have his mom or dad help him with it. Yes, a broken leg was the biggest joke Stan had come face-to-face with and he still had over a month left to go. All because of Cartman.

Of course Cartman denied doing it on purpose and only pointed and laughed whenever he saw Stan struggling on his crutches. He never really apologized for what he did either which pissed Stan off even more. Stan had been angry with Cartman many times since preschool but most spats didn't last longer than two weeks. He forgave people too easily and hated confrontation. He spent so much effort breaking up fights between Kyle and Cartman so it was almost silly to be a part of the quarrel if he didn't care about being a hypocrite. But since the 'accident' in the tree Stan wanted nothing more than to evoke revenge upon him. He had been planning since the day after the break. Now it was Saturday and he had invited Kyle and Kenny over to tell them the news.

"I'm assuming this has to do with Fatass?" Kyle suggested.

"Well he isn't here so yes," Stan spoke. "I'm doing it, I'm going to make him pay for _this_"- he angrily showcased the hard blue cast around his leg.

"Well you know me, I'm not one to say no to revenge on Cartman. I'm here with whatever you need dude," Kyle offered.

"Me too, what he did was fucked up man," Kenny agreed.

"Really? Because what I have planned so far won't be easy. I will need a lot of help because this is going to be tricky and risky. If we are ever caught we could be grounded by our parents," Stan began his pre-rally speech.

"Dude, I promised long ago I'm going to be behind you with whatever you need. If it's helping to save some baby cows or making Cartman pay… let's do it," Kyle said.

Stan grinned before grabbing a notebook at his desk he was sitting at and opening it. "Okay, this is what I have so far. It isn't much but I want to do a series of things to him, each worse than the one previous. It will all lead to one final blow, which will be the worst."

Kyle looked it over. "Sweet. But what will the final blow be?"

"It has to be something he cares about more than anything. Something that will weaken him or make him fall apart worse than anything else."

"What did you have in mind?" Kyle inquired.

Stan shifted his eyes. "I have something but still working out the details…"

He told them. Kyle shook his head. "If you want to do that, I won't stop you. Again, I'm all up for Fatass getting what's coming to him. Just tell us what we can do to help."

Monday morning. Stan made sure he took an extra half hour of his time to wake up for stage one of 'Revenge at Cartman' would be under way. It really would be very quick to do but with a leg in a cast now, nothing was ever quick to do anymore. After breakfast he got dressed and made sure he had everything for school before having his mom tie the special toe sock she made for him around his toes that stuck from his cast, he was ready to go. He checked his watch after stepping out in the cold morning air and grinned. He hobbled his way over to Cartman's house which was eight houses from his, and once there, opened his backpack and took out an envelope and slipped it under the door. Satisfied, he went to the bus stop to wait for his friends.

Just minutes before the bus arrived Cartman showed up, a look of confusion and fear on his face.

"Hey dude, 'bout time your fat ass showed up," Kyle remarked.

Cartman appeared not to have heard. "You guys- you guys are not going to believe what I found this morning."

"Low-fat milk in the fridge instead of whole?" Stan joked and the guys laughed.

"No dickface. I found a note by the door. Someone must have slipped it in."

"A note? What did it say?" Stan pretended to look curious.

Cartman scoffed the thought off. "Just something stupid, someone trying to freak me out or shit."

"Let us see," Kyle stepped closer.

Sighing, Cartman dug into his pocket and pulled out a folded note. In red paint was the word: REVENGE. By this time the bus came and the boys were forced to finish their conversation on it.

"I mean it's a stupid note right? Why the hell would anyone do that? It's not even funny," Cartman was waving the note in front of Stan and Kyle's faces who sat in front of him.

"I don't know dude, why would someone joke about that?" Stan said.

"To freak me out. Revenge? And in red paint nonetheless. So last year," Cartman rolled his eyes.

Kyle took the note from him and examined it. "I don't know Cartman, this looks like blood to me."

Cartman's eyes went wide. "Blood? Get- get the fuck out of here," he nervously chuckled.

"Really dude, I know this stuff and this is blood. Not paint."

Cartman wasn't smiling now.

"Shit Cartman, someone really wants revenge on you if they gave you a note written in _blood_," Stan's eyes were wide.

Cartman took the note back. "But… but why? Why would someone want revenge? I didn't do anything. This time at least."

"There has to be something. Last night. Last month. A week ago perhaps," Stan glared.

Cartman began racking his brains. To anyone else there was always someone they could guess would threaten him like this but for Cartman, he didn't think he did anything wrong to anyone. Instead he tried to take it like a prank and didn't say another word on the ride to school. Stan and Kyle were grinning widely now and shook each other's hands. As soon as the bus pulled into South Park Elementary Cartman wasted no time getting off. Meanwhile Kyle stood back to help Stan get off and to carry his backpack for him since it put him off-balance on his crutches.

"Man, he totally bought it!" Stan laughed.

"He really is stupid! You could tell you wrote it in paint. But that lard butt will believe anything if you fake it enough," Kyle chimed in.

"Oh man, if phase one is this easy, we're really in for a treat."

Cartman tried passing off the note as a prank but it was obvious he was only kidding himself. The rest of the week he was a little on-edge up until Friday. He strolled into school with an air of confidence.

"I knew it was a joke. The whole week's gone by and nothing has happened. Whoever did it doesn't know me at all. A revenge note? Please, _so_ lame," he smiled as he got to his locker.

Stan and Kyle shared a look as they watched Cartman open his locker and take a red folder in it out, and place in a binder of his before taking out a pack of poptarts from his backpack and began munching.

"Why were you gaywads early to school anyway?" he asked, not interested the slightest.

"Oh you know, I have to help Stan out a lot now that he broke his leg," Kyle shrugged. "My mom decided to drop us off today so he didn't have to walk to the bus stop."

Cartman rolled his eyes.

"So, did you do Garrison's report 'How I would make the world a better place'?" Stan asked.

"All in here"- Cartman patted his binder.

"Wow, you actually did it this time?" Kyle looked shocked.

"Yes I did it showoff. And let me tell you, I think it will surprise everyone, even Mr. Garrison!"

"I bet," Kyle muttered to Stan and they chuckled.

The reports were oral, and began by 9:30 in the morning. Mr. Garrison did not want to give the class of preparing themselves if he called them out in alphabetical order. Those who were last on the call sheet always made changes to their reports by the time it was their turn. So he had written down the names of his students and placed them in a bowl to call them up at random. The first one was Craig and Mr. Garrison wasn't too impressed with what he wrote. Next was Bebe's and it was fair. After a couple more students Stan's name was called.

"Damnit!" he cursed.

"Get up here now Stanley; you've had plenty of time to write your essay since you broke your leg!" Mr. Garrison ordered.

"Do I have to walk to the front or can I read it from my desk?" Stan grumbled.

"Walk up here so I can hear you better."

Of course Mr. Garrison wouldn't make any special arrangements when it came to his injury, he never handed out special treatment to him or any other student if they were ill or injured. Stan had to lean practically all his weight on his left leg and crutch, the injured right one sticking out. He licked his dry lips; he had scrambled to finish his essay last night and knew it wasn't real good. Plus it was one of the few five-paragraph essays he had written and it was hard.

"Um, 'there are a lot of things I would do to make the world a better place. Stuff like helping animals, helping the poor, and try to create world peace'," Stan began. Cartman laughed at this while Mr. Garrison rolled his eyes. As Stan mentioned, the essay was about helping animals, poor people, and world peace. His blood boiled more and more each time Cartman pointed and laughed at something he had written. When Stan was finished he handed his paper to his teacher to grade.

"Okay enough essay Stanley. Kind of predictable though…" Mr. Garrison remarked.

Stan was glaring as he took his seat. He had tried his best really; he only hoped what Kyle did with Cartman's was the shocker Mr. Garrison was looking for. Unfortunately it wasn't his turn until after recess. But when his name was called, Cartman strolled to the front looking confident. He opened his red folder up and took out his paper.

"'How I Would Change the World by Eric Cartman'," he began. "'The first thing I would do to make the world a better place is get rid of all the minorities.' Wait what?"

Mr. Garrison looked shocked. "That is not funny Eric. You need to start taking school seriously before every single teacher from here on out fails you! Now continue."

"But I didn't write that."

"Read!"

Grumbling, Cartman went on. "'The second thing I would do is- take control of all charities, eliminating the ones'- no, I didn't write this crap!"

"I don't care how offensive it is, the assignment is to read in _front_ of the class so you will do so!" Mr. Garrison ordered.

"I'm not reading something I didn't write!"

"Now before it's an automatic F!"

Cartman clinched the paper with his pudgy hands while Stan and Kyle were fighting to hold in their laughter. "'…I would eliminate the ones I thought didn't deserve help. The third and final thing I would do is eradicate all hippies and Jews.' Well I would like to… but I didn't write that! I didn't write any of this! Someone must have switched out my real essay with this bullshit one."

Mr. Garrison was looking more and more pissed with each minute. "You can deny it all you want but this is the only paper you have so you will read the rest of it right now."

Monday morning had Stan waking up a half hour earlier so he could eat breakfast and get ready for school so he could walk to the bus stop. Mrs. Broflovski was unfortunately unable to chuffer him to school that day so he had to hobble the mile walk as his face froze in the 30 degree air. After everyone took up a seat on the bus Stan looked around.

"Where's Cartman?"

Kyle shrugged. "Probably hiding in his house after his essay on Friday."

Cartman did not show up at all that day and on the bus ride home the boys decided they'd stop by his house to see what was up. It had been one of those rare weekends where all five boys had plans with their families so none of them noticed the fat boy wasn't available to play with or hang out with. Kyle was the one who went up and knocked on his door. It took a couple minutes but it was answered by Cartman.

"What do you fags want?" he growled.

"Dude, why weren't you in school today?" Kyle asked.

Cartman glared. "The stupid fucking principal found out about my essay! Mr. Garrison kept me in class when school ended Friday and told her! Of course they called my mom too and I was sitting in the principal's fucking office trying to explain what I did! Long story short- I'm suspended from school for a week for my god-damned essay!"

Stan and Kyle shared looks.

"Wow, really?" Stan asked.

"Right? And I wouldn't be so pissed if I knew the essay I was forced to read _wasn't_ in fact mine in the first place. Someone planted it there, that essay was _not_ mine," he elaborated.

Again the boys shared a look.

"But how could someone do that if it was in your locker the whole time? Unless someone knew your combination…"

"Yeah, because every other student in South Park is as gay as you two Kyle"- Cartman pointed to him and Stan. "No one else knows anyone's locker combinations but you two douchebags. I would know if some asshole knew mine." He then raised a brow. "Unless… you know that someone knows mine. Are you trying to tell me some asshole knows my locker combination, Jew?" he grabbed a hold of Kyle's shirt.

"No! It was just a hypothetical statement," Kyle glared.

Cartman was still glaring but he let Kyle go. "Now my dumb whore of a mother won't let me out of the house all week and she hid my cell and unhooked the internet and TV. I swear I'm going to fucking die this week. This is going to be worse than Aweswitz."

Stan rolled his eyes at Cartman's dramatics. "Well sorry we won't be hearing much of you then. But um, we'll try to find out who might have gotten into your locker. If that helps."

Cartman looked shrewdly at Stan. "When you catch him tell him I will twist his balls off and feed them to"-

Shaking his head, Stan began to limp away on his crutches, not wanting to hear anything else from the fat boy for the day.

While it was a humorous unintentional bonus on top of his plans, Stan was waiting impatiently for Cartman to return to school from his suspension. Now that he was out he had to wait a week to move onto phase three. Cartman returned the next Monday and Stan decided to give him a day to feel as if things were back to normal before having the next thing take place. Tuesday went by normally as it could; Cartman was pissed his friends hadn't made any progress finding out who may have gotten into his locker. But they pretended to still look into it, just to amuse themselves. But phase three was about to go underway. It was quite simple really and involved breaking into Cartman's locker a second time. But if this plan worked, phase four would go on as planned for it also involved stealing. Stan couldn't help that his fat friend was so stupid and that he didn't suspect those sitting right next to him were the ones doing it. His revenge was all about freaking Eric Cartman out. Getting under his skin and make him feel as if someone was out to get him. Each thing worse than the next. And Stan still felt as pissed off about his broken leg as ever so he showed no signs of calling the revenge off.

Stan looked up at the clock above the whiteboard. It was 11:55. He looked to Kyle who raised his brows and Stan nodded back. The black-haired boy raised his hand.

"What Stanley?" Mr. Garrison glared, hand in the middle of writing down questions on the board about the social studies book they were reading.

"Mr. Garrison, can I go to the bathroom?"

"What? Of course not, lunch is in five minutes, I think you can wait until then."

"But I really need to go and my leg is broken. By the time it takes me to walk to the nearest bathroom and back, lunch will have started. At least if I go now, I won't have to run into everyone hurrying off to the cafeteria. I've already been knocked from my crutches by people in the halls."

Mr. Garrison sighed. "All right fine. But you better make sure you return the hall pass to me after lunch is over mister!"

Luckily Stan was not stopped by the hall monitor or any of the faculty on the way to the lockers. More time to do what he needed to, and he didn't have that much extra time to do it. Thankfully his and Cartman's lockers weren't too far from Mr. Garrison's room so Stan didn't have to walk _too_ far. He went to work- he took out a slip of paper where Kyle had written Cartman's locker combination. Stan unlocked it and his hands went to where his backpack was. Stan opened the front pocket and found a five dollar bill. He knew this was where Cartman always kept his lunch money. He pocketed it and quickly shut the locker, just as the bell rang for lunch. Stan's heart leapt but he took a deep breath and remained cool so he could open his own locker which was two doors from Cartman's. He took out the lunch he had his mom pack for him from his backpack and went to the cafeteria.

The cafeteria quickly filled with hundreds of students and the usual boys from Mr. Garrison's class took up two tables next to each other. Kyle sat on one side of Stan, Kenny on the other.

"So, did you do it?" Kyle breathed.

Stan nodded through his sandwich. "Right where I knew it would be."

Five minutes later Eric Cartman came bursting through the lunch room and banged his fists on the table the boys were sitting at.

"All right, which of you buttholes did it?" he demanded.

"What're talkin' about Eric?" Butters asked.

"You know damn well what I'm talking about you Jew! All of you- Jews!"

"What happened _now_?" Craig rolled his eyes.

"One of you assholes went into my locker and stole my lunch money! Now fess up right now before I force it out of each and every one of you!"

"What do you mean?" Stan asked calmly, now opening his baggie of Cheez-its.

Cartman reared his face at the crippled boy. "It was you wasn't it Stan? You stole my lunch money!"

"What? Why would I do that?"

"I don't know why, but it was you. Your locker is right next to mine, you probably thought it would be funny to swipe it when I wasn't looking this morning!"

"Dude, I think you're beginning to take things too far," Kyle spoke. "You're so hung up about this revenge note you got, now you think someone is going inside your locker while you aren't there. You said so yourself- no one knows any else's combination except Stan and I because we're 'gay like that'," he rolled his eyes.

"You must know my numbers"- Cartman pointed the finger at Stan again. "Snuck a look since we're so close."

"Dude, I can hardly remember my own. I wouldn't remember yours."

It took a few more minutes before Cartman finally stopped accusing and sighing, held out his hand. "Just give me some money dude."

"For what?" Stan glared.

"I need money for lunch still r-tard!"

"I don't have any money, my mom made my lunch. All our moms made us lunch today," Stan looked over to Kyle and Kenny who were also enjoying packed lunches.

"What the fuck you assholes?"

Stan knew Cartman would bug him about stealing his money more so if he bought lunch from school today. So he and the others had their moms pack their lunch to not have to worry about bringing lunch money to school. And it was hard- today was chicken sandwich day. But Sharon had packed her son a good lunch that day so he didn't have to miss it too much. In the end Butters felt bad for Eric so he gave him a dollar which he was able to use to get a pack of cookies from the vending machine- a few minutes before lunch ended.

Wednesday Kyle and Kenny were over at Stan's once school ended. They were discussing what was left to do for Cartman's Revenge.

"So you have the final details set up?" Kyle asked.

"Yep. All right here"- Stan pulled out a paper where he had written 'Final Phase of Revenge' on top.

"You sure this is how you want to end it?" Kenny asked.

"Yes, I know it's a little out there but it fits. It's perfect. It's the perfect way to make fatass suffer."

Kyle shook his head, a look of disbelief on his face. He crossed his arms. "It's cool yeah but I just can't see you going through with this. I mean I'll do my part but you're the one whose shoulders everything rests on."

Stan looked offended. "I can do this okay?"

"Do you really have the heart to do so?" Kyle was giving him the same unbelieving look.

"Yes! I just have to make one more phone call to the place to set an exact date and time and it'll be done. We just have to do the last thing before this one and well, hopefully Cartman will have learned his lesson," Stan shrugged.

"He never does," Kyle corrected. "But we can hope he at least feels horrible for a little while."

Stan was feeling the pressure of the final plans for the revenge when Monday rolled around. He had the date settled for the final phase which would take place Friday at 2 AM; he didn't really have much of a window to make it happen any later. Now all he needed to do was convince the Cartmans to stay the night at his house that Friday so Cartman would have no idea what would be taking place. He was too preoccupied with these thoughts to notice Kyle had placed the second to last idea into play that Monday.

"Dude, I took his 3DS," Kyle told Stan as he met him at lunch.

"Huh?"

Kyle rolled his eyes. "I put it inside your locker since the idiot still would think I'd be the one to steal from him than you even though I don't have a reason to. Right now."

"Oh, cool. Thanks." Stan shook his head. "Dude, I don't know what to do about Friday. I have an idea but I don't think the Cartmans will fall for it. I'm just freaking out after all this planning and trouble it will fall apart in the end."

Kyle began his chicken salad. "Well what's your plan to get them to stay the night?"

Stan took a drink from his soda before answering. Luckily Kyle didn't look at him like he was stupid.

"It could work. I mean with everything else we did to Cartman he's already on edge. He'd believe anything. And if he's freaked out it won't take much to convince his mom to come along too."

"Why did his mom have to install a security system?" Stan growled. "Going through all this just to get him out of the way… though I doubt I'd be able to break into his house like we used to with this stupid thing"- he banged a fist on his hard casted leg.

Kyle smirked for a moment before turning serious. "Just remember dude, you have to get everything done at the exact time and how you want it otherwise it won't work. I promise I'll do my part but you have to get Cartman where you want him all of Friday. It's time to bring it full-circle."

Stan wasn't sure if his best friend's words were supposed to make him feel better but he did feel calmer at the end of the school day once Cartman went up to the group fear in his eyes how his 3DS was no longer in his locker. Stan wished he had done more than steal when it came to his revenge but it was gratifying for Cartman to get what he deserved. He was an idiot to brag about the newest toys and games he had then bring them to school. He would play with the game system all the time during recess and sometimes during class. It was hard for anyone to feel sorry for him.

The rest of the week Cartman walked around school with his backpack the whole day; he never stopped to drop off anything in his locker for fear he would be robbed again. Stan was satisfied in knowing his intentions to put fear into the fat boy was working. Cartman no longer trusted anyone with anything.

"- and I stayed by after school yesterday to make sure nothing was in my locker so the asshole who has been taking _my_ stuff has nothing to take," Cartman was telling Stan and Kyle as he sat behind them on the school bus ride home that Thursday.

"Do you even wonder why someone would do all this stuff in the first place?" Stan asked tonelessly.

"Because some immature dickface has nothing better to do than harass me!" Cartman shot.

"But remember back to that first note you got? In blood? Seems like there's a motive to everything he or she is doing," Kyle reminded him.

"Well he might as well stop now because from now on my eyes are not leaving anything of mine. I am going to set up cameras and videos as soon as I get home to catch the Jew. My mom's security system isn't enough," Cartman explained.

Stan did not get much sleep that night; he couldn't stop thinking about the final phase of his revenge. Would it go according to plan? What if something did get fouled up? Could he do his part of the job? He had a cast on his leg, surely someone would notice him stumbling around in the middle of the night… but he had to go through, he couldn't have Kyle standing around waiting for him so he could do his part of the plan. And all of this would be pointless if he couldn't conduct the very last thing. This was to show how pissed off he was about everything. He wasn't overreacting about it; this was the stupidest way for someone to break their leg! Cartman brushed the whole incident off like it was just a bruise! And having a broken leg was everything Stan feared it would be. Once everything would be over then he could go back to his normal life. Friday Cartman would really get what was coming to him…

Stan was twitchy as he got ready for school that morning. Everything would come down to timing. He had to make sure he placed an envelope in Cartman's mailbox after the fat boy had gone off to the bus stop. He knew his mother would still be home getting ready for work but that wouldn't matter. If he timed it right he could do what he needed when he knew she wouldn't be by a window that faced the mailbox. He knew she always got ready after Cartman left for school so that was his window. Stan would be relying on Mrs. Broflovski for a ride to school so he had to go to and from the mailbox by then. Stan kept going over this again and again; he had let his cereal get soggy.

Stan was on the couch at 8:10 watching his mother walk frantically around the house as she usually did before going to work.

"Um Mom, I have to go to Cartman's real quick to see his answers on this paper we had to do together," Stan told her.

"Yes, yes that's fine," Sharon breathed as she put on earrings. "I have to go to the post office and drop something off quickly so I'm leaving in two minutes. Have a good day, okay?"

True to her word Sharon was out the door at 8:12. When Stan knew her car had gone down the street he got his things ready and locked the door behind him and crossed over to Cartman's house. He knew it was safe for Kenny was playing his part by being at the bus stop. He had sent a quick message to Stan's ipod saying 'He's here', just so Stan knew it was safe to drop off the envelope. Even though the streets and sidewalks were wet from last night's rain Stan still managed to go to the mailbox and back to his house on his crutches in two minutes.

The school day went by without incident. Cartman of course was walking around with everything he needed in his backpack; nervous he'd have something else stolen but confident in knowing there was nothing left to steal that he wouldn't know about. As the minutes counted down to 2:45 Stan could feel his palms get sweaty and his attention at full force. Then the bell rang. The boys hopped on the bus and Stan's nerves grew more still. He knew that when Cartman got home he would get the mail and see the note there. The mail was the only chore really Cartman did since it didn't require extra work. He made sure to grab it after he came home from school each day.

The school bus dropped a few kids at the bottom of Bonanza Street. They included Stan, Cartman, and a sixth-grade girl. Stan had the same pace as Cartman as the two walked up the slightly sloping sidewalk to where Bonanza Circle was. With a broken leg he now walked as slow as his fat friend.

"Doing anything today?" Stan asked as they walked.

"Dunno. Probably just chill by the TV till dinner," Cartman answered.

"Well d'you want to play GhostLand later today?" Stan spoke of an interactive computer game the boys always played together. You just had to sign on and play and chat at the same time.

"Yeah sure," Cartman shrugged.

"Cool. I'll be on around five."

With that Cartman turned right to his house and Stan turned left. The ten-year-old did not get word from Cartman for a couple hours. If he did read the note he either thought it was a joke or was too scared to do anything. By five Stan logged onto GhostLand and waited for Cartman's name to pop up. It had been thirty minutes and still nothing. Frustrated Stan took hold of his mother's cell and texted him.

_S. Marsh: Dude, wtf? Let's play already_

A few minutes later there was a reply.

_Eric Cartman: dude, shit is going down. Or is about to_

_S. Marsh: What do you mean?_

_Eric Cartman: dude, I swear the same asshole who sent me that revenge note weeks ago fucking sent me a new one today!_

Stan had to grin.

_S. Marsh: No way. What did it say?_

_Eric Cartman: get this- it says 'Revenge ends tonight.'_

_S. Marsh: Well that's good, you'll no longer have strange shit happen to you!_

_Eric Cartman: Dumbass it says TONIGHT. Tonight hasn't happened yet! He must be planning something to happen to me tonight!_

Stan decided it best to carry on the rest of the conversation by talking to him. "Dude, are you sure it's the same person who sent the first note?"

"Of course you hippie!" Cartman growled. "Who else would do it? And it looks like it's written in blood too! Just like the first note! Shit dude, what do I do? I have to catch this thieving Jew tonight. There's no choice, I'm setting up all our cameras and"-

"Wait hold on"- Stan said. "Don't do anything till we think this through. Look, whoever this is seems like he knows what he's doing. He might be waiting for you. The last thing you want to do is wait in the line of fire right?"

"Right," Cartman sounded serious.

"If you're home waiting for him then he could carry out his plan. It may be the final 'revenge' but it's probably the worst and involves you at your worst. At your most vulnerable state. If you aren't home he won't be able to carry out his plan. Get it?" Stan was sure he could hear Cartman thinking on the other end.

"But then how will I ever catch him? And where will I go if staying here isn't an option? You seem to have all the answers _Stan_."

Stan waited a minute to appear like he was thinking. "I've got it: you set up all your cameras like you wanted to. That plus your home security- you're bound to catch this person. Meanwhile you and your mom could stay the night at my place. I mean, this person wouldn't expect you to be here right?"

It did take a little time for Cartman to agree but he finally said that would be the 'safest' option. He hung up to talk to his mother about where they'd be staying the night. Meanwhile Stan had to ask his. He quickly grabbed his crutches and slid down the last few steps of the staircase in his eagerness to find her.

"I heard a thud, are you okay?" Sharon asked her son, walking out the kitchen.

"Mom, can the Cartmans stay here tonight? They don't feel safe at their place," Stan rushed as she helped him up.

"What? How come?"

"Cartman's been feeling threatened by some mystery person and he got a note today saying that the final revenge will take place. He doesn't want to stay at his house if the person is planning to do something to him. Can they please stay over tonight?"

"Well of course, but this is so sudden, since when"-

"Thanks!" And Stan went to call Cartman back.

By 6:30 the Cartmans were sitting eating dinner with the Marsh family. All cameras and recording devices were set up at the Cartman house to hopefully catch the person who had been tormenting Eric.

"I hope we aren't intruding," Liane was telling Sharon. "It's such a strange set of circumstances that has happened."

"Don't worry, we want you to feel safe," Sharon smiled.

During the meal Cartman seemed as if he had forgotten what he and his mother were doing there in the first place. He had two bowls of chili and cornbread without hesitation. Chili night was always a big thing at the Marsh house and he did not want to miss it. Even though as each hour passed Stan grew more nervous about the plans he had, he ate a big helping of chili as well and ice cream after, just to appear as if he wasn't up to something. Cartman let out a satisfying belch as Shelley and Stan went about the table to clean it up. Stan tried getting a good grip on the platter holding the cornbread as well as his crutches but stumbled over and fell. Cartman pointed and laughed. Sharon poked her head out.

"Stanley! Don't overexert yourself." She helped him up the second time that evening. "Shelley, I told you not to allow your brother to help you out with the table, you know it's difficult for him." She turned to Cartman. "Eric, why don't you be a dear and pick up the platter Stanley dropped?"

Cartman glared. "Screw that. I have TV to watch."

Sharon frowned. "In this house you are not allowed to do what you want until the table is cleared. Help out, then you and Stan can do something together upstairs."

Cartman turned to his mother. "Meeeeeemmm!"

Liane sighed. "Do what Mrs. Marsh tells you muffin. I'll be in the office; Mr. Marsh will show me how to finally download music on my iphone."

Stan had to chuckle at Cartman taking orders from his mom. He did it too when Shelley had to take over his chores the past weeks. The only good thing about a broken leg really. Once chores were completed the boys went to Stan's bedroom.

"The Jew's not coming over tonight is he?" Cartman growled as he took a seat on Stan's chair, the spot Stan was about to sit at.

Stan sighed as he moved away. "No. Just you."

Cartman blinked before grabbing Stan's remote and turning his TV on. Tonight was going to be a little awkward; he never had Cartman over for the night. He hoped the two wouldn't get on each other's nerves too much. But even if he did do something Stan hated, at least he could reply back with the ultimate form of revenge he could think of. The two spent most of the night playing video games before it was time to get ready for bed. Stan took extra time in his bath that night making sure he could do everything himself without needing his parents' help. It was difficult to bathe and get in and out of the tub and dress himself and dry the wet floor but it was better than Cartman finding out he needed help just to bathe.

Liane would be sleeping in the guest bedroom while Randy set up the blow-up bed next to Stan's bed for Cartman to bunk at. Stan was surprised he didn't pop it when he got on. Stan was moving his fingers around under his covers for his kitten to play with after the lights had gone out. Suddenly Cartman cried out.

"Leave me alone Mr. Kitty!"

"What's she doing?" Stan asked.

"Sniffing like I have something. I don't have anything Mr. Kitty! That's a bad kitty!"

Stan sighed. "Do you just want her out of the room?"

"Are you going to revert into a pussy as usual if I let her out? You're the one who likes your cat sleeping with you," Cartman rolled his eyes.

Stan swallowed. "No. It's fine. You want to say 'bye first? In case she's hard to- to find in the morning?"

Cartman raised a brow at the boy looking down at him. "No…stupid cat's always easy to find."

Thankfully Cartman was annoyed enough at his gray cat to let her out the room himself so Stan didn't have to get up. Time passed slowly. The boys didn't really talk much like Stan usually did when Kyle was over. Cartman finally had had it with Stan playing with his cat and told him to 'stop playing with her like a fag. I want to sleep.' He turned over to get comfortable and a few minutes passed by before sounds of snores began. Stan pet Basha slowly, stating at the ceiling. Even if Cartman was asleep he wouldn't get up and do what he needed to. He was sure his parents were just now getting to bed so he still had a while to wait before the whole house was in a deep sleep. He hoped he didn't fall asleep either; he set his alarm on his ipod just in case he did doze off. To keep himself awake he spent the time messaging Kyle who also could not fall asleep until after his part in the revenge was complete.

Bzzzz. Bzzzz. Bzzzz. Stan's eyes popped open and with blurred vision looked down; his hand was resting on his ipod that had gone off. He stopped the timer and rubbed his eyes. It was 3 AM. Crap! He had fallen asleep! Stan sent a quick text to Kyle informing him he was up; thankfully he had gotten a reply back quickly. After both boys confessed to falling asleep Stan told him to get ready for he was to meet up with him soon. Stan drew in a deep breath- this was it, time to complete the final phase. Stan crawled to the edge of his bed and carefully set his foot down the floor before allowing his broken leg to follow. He held onto his bed and carefully scooted his body to the end of the bed which was a little difficult for the blow-up mattress Cartman was on was inches from his bed. Stan put his jacket on as well as his shoe and 'toe cover' for his broken leg. He then took hold of his crutches and reached his door. He turned back to make sure Cartman was still asleep before opening and closing it behind him.

Once Stan reached the stairs he turned on a flashlight and sat his bottom down, sliding down stair by stair like he had been for weeks. Once downstairs he went to the living room where the pet carrier Mr. Kitty traveled in was. Stan opened the little door before biting his lip and looked around. Now to find Mr. Kitty. Stan hobbled to the dining room and kitchen, shining his flashlight around. Suddenly his crutch caught the cord of the can opener and it crashed to the floor. Stan felt his heart leap to his throat- surely someone heard. He lay on the floor frozen for two minutes before realizing no one had heard. He looked at the appliance and saw the top had broken off. He had little time to worry about what he had just broken so just placed it on the shelf and went back out to the living room. He cursed when he saw Mr. Kitty lying on the coach and staring his way.

"Were you in here the whole time?" he whispered. Shaking his head he sighed and stroked the cat a few times. "I'm sorry but I have to do this Mr. Kitty. Cartman deserves it. Don't worry; you're going to a good place. I wouldn't send you away somewhere I didn't trust." The cat was known for being pretty passive and went into the carrier without fuss. Now for the difficult part- walking out with crutches and the carrier. Thankfully he would be meeting up with Kyle at the end of the street but it would still be a chore to walk out the house at all with the cat. Stan ended up crawling around the floor and pushing the carrier to get out. Once outside he pushed the cage with one of his crutches, took a step, and pushed again.

Kyle was waiting at the pole where Bonanza Street was posted. He looked over and saw a crippled boy struggling not too far. Sighing he went over.

"Dude, we were supposed to meet at the end of the street," Stan said.

"Dude, trying to walk and push a pet carrier around on crutches doesn't look suspicious at all," Kyle rolled his eyes. "I can take him the rest of the way; I'll just have to jog some of the time to meet up with the people taking the cat."

"Don't run too fast, and it's a her, not a him," Stan corrected. "Be careful. I want to make sure she's going to a good place so at least she doesn't have to suffer."

Kyle sighed again. "I know dude. I'll make sure she gets there fine."

Stan thanked his friend and once they were out of sight he hobbled back home and was able to get back in bed without waking anyone up. Now he had to wait for the reactions to follow…

With two extra people in the house Sharon thought it was a good idea to make pancakes that Saturday morning. Shelley took over feeding the pets, the only thing she didn't mind doing that Stan usually took care of since he broke his leg. Sparky and Stan's cat Basha were already in the kitchen and went to their food dishes as soon as they were set down.

"Where's your cat fat turd?" Shelley asked Cartman.

"How should I know? Hiding somewhere," Cartman glared.

"Shelley, keep the food for Mr. Kitty up here, otherwise Basha might eat it," Sharon instructed, nodding to the counter.

Stan's eyes shifted but his face remain blank. Even after everyone ate their pancakes and bacon, no one seemed to wonder why Mr. Kitty hadn't come to eat her food. She wasn't skiddish so didn't have a problem eating with others around. After lunch Liane decided to check the house to see if it was safe to enter. Randy went with her in case something dangerous did indeed happen. They arrived a half hour later.

"Well hon we checked but the house is completely okay," Liane told her son.

Cartman looked surprised.

"Well if it's safe and nothing happened, maybe it's okay to go back home," Sharon suggested. It hadn't even been a full 24 hours but clearly she was getting frustrated having Cartman around.

"Guess Stan was smart in suggesting you stay here Eric," Randy spoke.

"But what if that asshole does whatever he was planning _another_ night? How will I know when I'll ever be safe at my own house ever again?"

"We have security around the house, and you can leave all the other cameras running for as long as you want muffin. But I think it's best we go home, we don't want to stop the Marshes from whatever plans they had for the weekend," Cartman's mother suggested.

"It's fine, we're glad you two stayed the night," Sharon lied.

It took a little while longer to convince Cartman to go back home but he finally felt safe enough if he had video cameras running until the perpetrator was caught. Liane and Eric packed up their things before meeting downstairs.

"Where's Mr. Kitty sweetums?" Liane asked her son.

"Pff, stupid cat's been hiding all day."

Liane thought for a moment. "Strange, she doesn't usually hide. Why don't you and Stan look for her."

"Can't crawl around like this"-Stan, who was on the couch, said patting his cast.

Sharon decided to help look for the cat but there was no sign of her. Or her cat carrier.

"She must have found a real good hiding spot," Randy said, taking a seat next to his son.

"It is a little odd her cat carrier is missing too… hm…" Ms. Cartman rubbed her chin. "Well if she turns up you'll tell us right?"

"Of course," Sharon nodded.

Cartman looked around. "Wait, we can't leave without the stupid cat. She's here somewhere… Mr. Kitty! You come out _right_ now! That's a bad Mr. Kitty! Bad kitty! You come out _now_!" the boy yelled.

Randy checked in and around the house to see if any windows looked like they were broken into or the screen was gone but all seemed fine so it ruled out the possibility she snuck out on her own.

"Where's Mr. Kitty? You tell me right now!" Cartman pointed a finger to Stan's cat Basha, who had leapt on her owner's lap.

"Don't yell at my cat! She doesn't know where yours is!"

It was another fruitless attempt at finding her the next half hour. Cartman had to finally call it quits. He tried not to appear too worried but his cat never ran away, he always knew where she was. She was a social one, the kind that loved to be around people. Especially Stan since he gave her more attention than Cartman did. She would have been on his lap out of all other places. She really was missing and staying at Stan's house wouldn't do much.

"You'll- you'll tell me if you see her, right?" he whispered to Stan before he left.

"Yeah dude. I love cats too," Stan said honestly.

As soon as Cartman left Stan went upstairs and met with Kyle online. He typed the words 'fatass is already scared dude. This is going to be sweet.'

Monday had come. Stan arrived to school at ten (which was when Mr. Garrison's class had PE) since he had just come back from a doctor's appointment to have his broken leg checked out. It had not healed yet so he had to sit out during the activites. He noticed Cartman sitting at the bleachers on the field. Stan sat next to him.

"Why are you not participating? What excuse did you come up with now?" Stan asked.

Cartman sighed heavily; he almost looked sad. "Stomach hurts."

Stan raised a brow but looked on at his classmates who were playing soft ball on the field. Butters had been chosen to be the pitcher for his team and he was doing terrible. Stan groaned and covered his eyes as he walked the person at the plate.

"Oh god, I wish my leg was out of this thing so I can be up there already! With me on the mound I wouldn't walk anyone."

Cartman didn't comment. Stan bit his lip.

"So uhh, no luck finding Mr. Kitty yet?"

"No you _Jew_," Cartman shot. "I've put posters up all over town and no one knows anything!"

Stan shrugged. "Pets go missing all the time. Sparky's gone missing twice already but they come back."

"You know the chances are low for a lost pet to come home," Cartman was glaring. "She never runs off, never goes missing. Is hardly ever outside. How would she be able to come back home on her own?"

"Cats are smarter than you think."

"Shut-up you hippie," Cartman rested his face in his hands.

Stan blinked into the bench below. He took out a marker from his pocket. "Hey dude, if it makes you feel better, wanna be the first to sign my newest cast? It's a soft one now but you can still write on it."

Cartman sighed again. "Dude, I'm not in the mood…"

Once school was over Stan called up the place he took Mr. Kitty too; it was called The Cat Sanctuary and was located in Colorado Springs. They took in cats of all kinds- strays, feral, old, sick, and ones owners could no longer keep. Stan had made up a lie saying Mr. Kitty belonged to his aunt but his aunt was moving to a place that didn't allow animals. He said he felt The Cat Sanctuary would be a good place to take Mr. Kitty to since it would grantee he would be adopted by a new loving family. Over the phone Stan was told Mr. Kitty hadn't been adopted yet but was doing well where she was. The boy was happy to know this yet couldn't shake off this odd twinge of guilt in his stomach. Maybe it was because he wasn't used to seeing Cartman so down. But knowing the cat was doing fine outweighed what Stan was feeling for his friend and he went about the rest of his day.

Thursday afternoon Stan, Kyle, and Kenny were sitting under their favored tree during recess watching Cartman who was sitting by the steps that lead back into the school.

"He hasn't stopped moping around has he?" Kyle raised a brow.

"Yeah. I've never seen him like this. I understand why he's upset but I can't tell him it was me," Stan spoke.

"Are you having regrets?" Kenny asked.

"No. He deserves it! But I hate seeing him like this."

"You're right Stan, he deserves this. He may never know it was you and that's the beauty of it. It will eat up at him for years if we're lucky," Kyle smirked.

Stan sighed. "Let's try to cheer him up a _little_. C'mon…"

The boys walked their way towards Cartman.

"Hey fatass, cat still missing?" Kyle asked.

"Shut your fucking face!" Cartman screamed.

Stan glared at his best friend. "Listen dude, if you want, we can come over your place after school to go over all the video footage you've been running. See if anyone shows up on them."

"Doesn't matter, took them down."

"What? Why?"

Cartman crossed his arms. "That black traitor did what he wanted to do which was this. Nothing matters now that Mr. Kitty's gone missing."

"No one said it was someone's fault. She probably ran away. For all we know the person might have stolen her from my house that one night. We don't have video surveillance, no one noticed someone breaking in."

Cartman looked up, shocked, then back down.

Stan adjusted himself on his crutches to get more comfortable. "Listen, you can come over after school. We can all play RoboRink on my Xbox. My grandparents got me it after I first broke my leg. You haven't played it with us yet."

"I'll pass. I just want to know where Mr. Kitty went. Stupid cat. Going missing, making me find her…" Cartman tried to appear annoyed but Stan knew he was scared deep inside.

Friday after school Stan was annoyed and he didn't quite know why. He kept thinking of Mr. Kitty and Cartman. For some reason Cartman's sadness was making him feel bad, not happy. He deserved what he got; he deserved to feel the way he was feeling. He knew it was useless to talk to Kyle about it since he would tell him he was crazy. Without really realizing it, Stan called up the Cat Sanctuary again and found out Mr. Kitty was still there but a couple were interested in adopting her. They were going to come back the next day with a cat, and no doubt Mr. Kitty was the one they had their eyes on. Stan looked to his own cat who was staring at him in the kitchen.

"They're going to adopt Mr. Kitty out tomorrow, Basha. What do I do?" Stan asked the tabby. "Now that I know I won't know where she's going I suddenly want to get her back. Cartman keeps calling me every day asking if I've seen her. He misses her, and to be honest, I kinda do too." He took off hat to run his hand in his hair before putting it back on again.

Stan had a difficult time falling asleep that night. He really wished he didn't feel bad for Cartman. He purposely moved around to feel his cast just to remind himself why he was pissed off at the fat boy in the first place. He made him fall out a tree and had no remorse for breaking his leg. It was an injury that could have been avoided. He already messed his way of thinking weeks ago by stealing his stuff and giving him a surprised detention. If he did give Cartman his cat back it meant having to tell the truth of what happened to everyone and Stan didn't want to think about that. He tried to avoid getting lectures and grounding time from his parents as often as the next kid; no doubt they would be angry when they found out he was the one terrorizing Cartman. Stan frowned; Mr. Kitty was going to be adopted tomorrow so he had to take action if he wanted to- before it was too late.

The next day Stan hobbled his way to the Cartman's house to see if he wanted to do anything but was stopped by his mother.

"I'm sorry Stanley but Eric is still pretty upset about not finding his kitty. I don't think he'll want to do anything today."

Stan sighed. "So you haven't seen or heard anything?"

"No. I suggested getting a new kitty but it might be too soon." Liane shook her head. "I know he would never admit it but he loved that cat. A pet is always the best thing next to a sibling to talk to. Anyway, thank-you for helping us trying to find her Stan, I'm not giving up hope just yet."

"No- no problem…" Stan's stomach bubbled.

Stan raced back to his house as fast as he could and took hold of the phone. He knew what he was saying to the person on the other end a minute later but at the same time the words flew out faster than he could think them.

"You know that cat that was brought in last Friday? I heard someone was interested in her but I need to get her back here. Her name is Mr. Kitty. (pause) I know but turns out my aunt found a new place to live and can bring her cat there and she really misses her so wants her back. I know it sounds wrong but she was hers first. I'll pay you if you get her back to South Park. (pause) I don't know; use it to buy cat food or something. Consider it a donation. Just get her back. I'll give you more directions but please don't hang up on me…"

Stan waited outside his house the next night, waiting to see a van pull up. It was late of course so no one would know what he was up to. He was a little afraid the people who picked up unwanted cats for The Cat Sanctuary wouldn't show up. After all he had just had a cat taken from what would be a happy new home. Surely the couple who were interested in Mr. Kitty were going to give her more love and attention than Cartman ever did. But damnit he was feeling really guilty and horrible for taking the cat away from her original owner. The whole 'causing-him-to-fall-out-a-tree' thing seemed long ago, and it was. Weeks ago it happened and Stan already did some things to freak Cartman out. He hadn't exactly forgiven him just yet and probably never would, but taking a cat away from their owner like this was too extreme for his stupid animal-loving heart. He hated thinking about how his parents would punish him for what he did but he just had to face it when it happened. His eyes lit up suddenly when he saw a van drive up the street and stopped at his house.

Even though Stan was taking a cat back he still gave the driver an envelope with $20 to donate to The Cat Sanctuary. At least some good could come from this. Stan kept Mr. Kitty in his room the rest of the night, happy in knowing everything will be over soon enough.

Stan's alarm went off at 6 AM. He rubbed tired eyes and looked out his window; it was nothing but white. It looked as if a heavy snowfall showered the town early in the morning. School surely would be closed for that Monday. Heart beating fast he put slippers on his feet and his robe over his body- it was very cold inside the house. It didn't take long to coax Mr. Kitty back in her cage. Stan took the cage down with difficulty before grabbing the phone and calling up the Cartman house.

"Ms. Cartman? It's Stan. Can you and Eric come by my house real quick? I have something that you need to see. Thanks."

Cartman didn't look too pleased to be woken up this early in the morning and having to walk to Stan's house.

"God damnit hippie did you look outside? They're bound to have no school today which means I want to sleep in." Cartman's eyes traveled to the pet carrier in the living room. His eyes went wide. "Mister- Mr. Kitty?"

Stan watched as the fat boy took the cat out. He looked her over for a second before beaming, seeing it was indeed his cat. He turned to Stan.

"What the hell dude?"

"What's going on here?" Sharon came down the stairs, followed by Randy.

Stan sighed; time to explain away. He began with the first thing- Mr. Kitty and how he had taken him to The Cat Sanctuary.

"You asshole Stan!" Cartman growled.

"Can I finish first? There's more to it and you're not going to like any of it…" he told him how he was the one behind all the other incidents the past few weeks. It was as simple as that really. He thought he would have to explain more but it was as simple as the fact that he was the one who made sure these plans were carried out.

"Why on earth would you torment your friend like that Stanley?" Sharon demanded.

"Because I was pissed off okay?" Stan snapped. "I was pissed off that he made me fall out a tree and break my leg!"

"I said I was sorry about that," Cartman rolled his eyes.

"No you didn't!"

"You mean all this stress and worry you put on Eric was because of your broken leg?" Randy frowned.

Stan was glaring at Cartman. "This broken leg thing has sucked. If he hadn't been more careful it wouldn't have happened. But it happened weeks ago and to be honest, I kind of didn't care as much when it came to 'revenge'. It was a lot of effort on my part to do things and make up lies. I haven't rested as much as I was told to. I was so excited for the final revenge but it came too late, it wasn't what I thought it would be."

"Why did you give Mr. Kitty back?" Cartman asked.

"You know why…"

Cartman laughed and pointed at him. "Ha! You pussy. Can't even carry out a plan to steal my cat."

As soon as the Cartmans left Sharon and Randy had their son face them.

"We know you have it 'rough' since you're on crutches but that doesn't mean we still don't get to punish you," Randy pointed a finger at the boy.

"Your father's right; just because you're angry doesn't mean you can treat someone else like that. And of all people you had a cat ripped away from her owner! I'm shocked," Sharon spoke.

"That's why I gave her back 'cause I did feel awful!"

The only good thing about that Monday was school was canceled due to the heavy snowfall. Everything else was a long drag for Stan. He was grounded from TV and internet for two weeks so spent most of the day in bed trying to make time fly by. Plus it would make him do something he hadn't done since his leg was broken in the first place which was rest.

Kyle was not happy at all with his friend when he talked with him the next day at school.

"You couldn't even go through with _that_? You were so close dude!"

"It sounded like a good idea a month ago! But it was stupid, what was I thinking? Sure Cartman would be upset but so would Mr. Kitty. She's spent all her time with him, I didn't want her to go off somewhere else."

Kyle shook his head; Stan could defend himself all he wanted but he was still pissed he gave that horrible boy his cat back. He knew if he were in charge of the revenge he would go through with them all and not look back.

"Did he at least apologize for having you fall out the tree?" the Jew said in a hallow voice.

Stan shrugged. "Yeah. Didn't sound too sincere but whatever. Nothing he says is sincere."

Stan was glad he had thrown in the towel with Cartman's Revenge. Two weeks later he had his cast taken off and with the help of everyone around him was slowly getting the strength back in it. He was back to playing pitcher in baseball although couldn't run the bases yet. Sure it was always nice to play the bastard at times but it wasn't who he was. He was having a better time with the strained friendship he had with Cartman than playing his enemy. He always allowed others to come back into his life no matter what happened and for now that was good enough.

_This didn't end quite like I thought it would, it was tough wrapping things up. I hope you liked this though. I have other stories on the way which will hopefully not take quite as long to be up! Reviews are always appreciated! _

_Lots of love: Rose, April 8th, 2013_


	14. Close Encounters of the Hairy Kind

**CLOSE ENCOUNTERS OF THE HAIRY KIND**

It was the second week of August and for many kids summer was winding down. Thirteen-year-old Stan's was no different and he really couldn't complain, he had had a wonderful summer for the most part. He had stayed in California with his family visiting his mother's side where they all lived for three weeks. He went to Disneyland, an Angels baseball game, San Diego, and of course the beach. Now back home he wanted to hang out and have fun with his friends. But that wasn't the option for the weekend unfortunately. No, this weekend was going to blow big time.

Sharon knocked on her son's door before stepping inside.

"Stanley, have you not packed yet?" she gasped.

Stan shrugged from behind the magazine he was reading.

"Your Uncle Jimbo is picking you up early in the morning, you have to be ready."

"But I don't want to go on a camping trip with him Mom!" he complained.

Sharon sighed; he had said this a lot since he found out Jimbo wanted to take him for the trip.

"I know exactly what it's going to be like. He's going to spend the whole time talking about how I'm a wuss and need to be a man and shit. He'll tell me Shelley's tougher than me and I am stupid to not be playing football this year as a freshman. Then teach me all these 'life skills' in case I get stuck in a forest. I've been in the Boy Scouts for six years! I know how to survive on my own. Then he'll probably end the trip with showing me how to skin a moose or something," Stan finished bitterly.

He didn't hate his Uncle Jimbo but he was your classic example of a manly man. He fought in Nam, hunted animals, and his TV show had turned into how to survive in the wilderness. No doubt he never really understood why his nephew was a sensitive boy and the biggest thrill he got with him was anything sports-related.

"Listen Stan, I know you don't want to go but it's only going to be for two nights. Surely it won't be as bad as getting sun-burned in San Diego or missing the whale watching boat just as it took off."

"I really would rather have the guys over for the weekend," Stan muttered.

Sharon didn't know what else to say so told him to talk it over with his father. Since it was his brother maybe Randy would have wiser words about the situation.

"He wants to take you out son, why does it have to be anything else? He wants to have a fun uncle and nephew bonding time before you start high school," Randy said as he worked on a model ship.

"Why can't he take Shelley? They have more in common anyway," Stan whined.

"For the reasons I just told you," Randy said, tongue between teeth as he glued together a tiny sail. "He already took her on a trip to that one boathouse his buddy has when she was going to high school."

"You know how he is though Dad, he doesn't care about me. Only how to tell me what I'm doing wrong. He sees me as the son he never had so has to treat me like that whenever I'm with him."

"Don't say that," Randy spoke. "He cares about you Stan; he wants the best for you just like everyone else."

In short, no one had his back. With much regret he began packing up the things needed for a two-day trip in the woods. He wasn't the biggest fan of camping anyway, he had spent too many times in his short life trapped somewhere and having to sleep in nature or anywhere else he didn't want to be, that the thought of huddled up during a freezing cold night in a forest was not very desirable. Night soon turned into morning and Stan woke to his alarm at 7 AM. Not that it was that early, but since it was the summer he had been waking up at least two hours later most days. He got himself dressed and took his things downstairs where his parents were, both drinking coffee.

"Want a cup?" Sharon asked.

"Yes, please." He really wished he hadn't discovered a love for coffee months ago but it really was amazing stuff. Since he was little he wondered why adults drank it so often; now he knew why. Jimbo showed up close to 7:30.

"Hey bud, ready for a weekend in the great outdoors?" he clamped an arm around Stan.

"Not really."

"That's great!" he obviously hadn't heard him. "Got everything? Hiking boots? We're sure to run into some sticky trails while we're out. Poncho? Gear for both rain and shine?"

Stan nodded to the floor.

"You do know the area well, right Jimbo?" Sharon had to ask.

"Don't worry Sharon, Stan will be fine as long as he's with me. It's just a campout, nothing to worry about."

"I just don't want you to be camping anywhere near wildlife or bears. You told me you once left food open at a campsite when you were young and saw a couple bears dig through it and"-

"That was twenty years ago, we'll be fine," Jimbo spoke.

Sharon sighed. "Okay then… have fun sweetie." She hugged Stan tightly before looking at his face. "Now I made sure to pack plenty of sun screen and bug spray. I packed you a little first aid kit- anything can happen. And I placed your inhaler in the front pocket of your backpack. Oh, and wear your sunglasses often, it's not good to be squinting in the sun. Don't forget to"-

"Sharon we're going on a camping adventure, time for roughing it in the great outdoors. Stan doesn't need you fussing over him, the man's about to start high school!" he patted Stan's back with a loud thump. "Let's get going bud."

Stan sighed but gave his mom a half hug and said softly, "See you Mom."

Their first stop before they hit the road was at Wendall's Burger for some breakfast before they stopped at a mini mart to pick up snacks and drinks. Stan tried not to look too bothered by the case of beer Uncle Jimbo picked up but he was. He hated dealing with drunk people and he really did not want to talk to his uncle while he was on his sixth beer.

"Bet you can't wait when you try your first beer huh Stanley?" Jimbo smiled as they put their grub in his truck.

"I think I can wait a while," Stan said honestly.

"You know I was fourteen when I had my first one. Your father was too, or maybe he was fifteen? Anyway, it was rather simple; don't know why we didn't do it before. Well when your dad had his first one, we were at our mother's house alone so he grabbed one of his dad's beers and tried it and liked it! A little too much actually! Haha!"

"Not surprised," Stan remarked.

"Hey, hey Stan, what do you say you try your first beer on our trip? Your mother will never know a thing."

Stan glared. "I would say no. Fuck that."

"Oh come on kid, live a little. Do you know how many of your peers already tried alcohol when they reached high school?"

And here came the first topic of annoyance.

"I don't care about everyone else. Plus I already tried alcohol, whiskey, when I was ten. It was awful but I began to rely on it to get through tough shit. Well it was just that, shit. You know what happened, how I was grounded for two months. Tried getting that 'high' from other stuff. It was all stupid," Stan crossed his arms.

"Perhaps. But beer is something different. It's a drink everyone needs to try. It's a favorite in the Marsh family so you're next up Stan!"

"I don't want to try beer yet Uncle Jimbo!" He just said how alcohol made things worse for him a few years ago. And seeing how people were when they drank put him off it even more. He had no desire to drink any time soon!

Uncle Jimbo soon began talking of what was ahead for their trip. They were going to a camping area called White Deer Trails and it was two hours away. It was going to be a real outdoors experience; they were going to be sleeping in a tent and had one fire pit at the camp site to cook on. There would be no fridge, drinks and such would be kept cool in ice chests. They were also in for some extreme hiking and climbing as well as fishing. It seemed like a lot for two days and hopefully it was fun, otherwise the weekend really would feel wasted.

Jimbo drove for a half hour or so without saying much. He was obviously looking for something to start a conversation with. He then glanced at his nephew.

"So uhh, heard from your dad you aren't trying out for football this year."

Stan was looking out the window. "Naw, didn't want to."

"Why not? You skipped out last year too. Surely you'd want to get back into it, you're good kid."

Stan shrugged. "I love football still of course but I want to try something new. I'm trying out for the freshman baseball team this year."

"Baseball?" Uncle Jimbo sounded surprised. "Well, ya that's a good sport too. But well… football's been your thing. Your sport for a while now Stan, I always saw you on the field in high school."

"There _are_ four years of high school; I might do it some other year. But I don't think I'm going to, I want to stick to baseball."

Jimbo shook his head with a grin. "C'mon kid, I saw Marsh on the field for years, don't upset your dear uncle or your old man."

Stan frowned. "I don't want to be a stereotypical football jock. I enjoy playing baseball more, I don't feel as pressured."

Jimbo raised a brow. "Hm… well, if you really want to do that. I know you're real good on the mound too. I'm glad you're more into baseball now than when you were younger."

Stan made his first smile in the truck.

"Are you excited about high school?"

"I don't know. According to Shelley the seniors love picking on freshmen. It's probably not much different than Jr. High. Six teachers and shit. But I guess it's something to look forward to. A lot of milestones to reach. Learning to drive, getting my first 'job', getting my braces off whenever, girlfriends, dances… it could be something to look forward to. Still, school is school."

By 9:30 they had made it to their campsite. It was a rough climb up a dirt road but Jimbo parked his truck where their assigned campsite was. Stan stepped out and looked around. They were surrounded by trees of course, there was a large enough earthy path void of plants where the tent would be set up, and a small grill in the ground. He could see off in the distance trailers set up where other campers were obviously stationed. He kind of wished they had an RV of some sort to stay in but that would have been a little silly, it would only be for the weekend. Jimbo suddenly called over for his nephew to help unload the truck and set up the tent. It was around noon when they were all set up and Stan went to ask about lunch.

"We're going to do the good ol' fashioned camp thing," Jimbo smiled.

"Aww, we aren't going to kill a deer are we?" Stan slumped.

"No worried kiddo, I was talking about hotdogs roasting over an open fire."

Stan wondered what his uncle had planned for the day as he sat with a wiener on a stick over a lit fire moments later. Again, he wasn't all up for 'roughing it' for he did too much of that in his short life. Hopefully there was a lake or swimming hole somewhere he could sneak off to, that would be nice. Right after lunch Jimbo announced they were going to go fishing by the river stream about a mile from where they were. Stan groaned, he only went fishing once when he was seven but he did not enjoy it. He didn't catch anything and the tiny fish on his line he knew had been planted by his dad down below. Plus it was the whole killing an animal thing. They were only fish, and he liked seafood, but he didn't want to see the fish killed.

"Aren't there any other activities going on? Like a place to swim or river rafting?" Stan had to ask as Uncle Jimbo got out all that was needed from the truck.

"What? No, not on this trip son," Jimbo said, a little distracted. "Here you go, you get to use my old pole, just your size," he passed the pole along to his nephew.

Stan really wished his uncle consulted him first about the activities taking place on this camping adventure. It was his big 'send off into high school' trip, he should have had some input about it. And so they went off on the mile long walk to the river's edge to catch fish that would be used for tonight's dinner. Stan was sweating by the time they reached the spot and gratefully sank into the folding chair provided by his uncle. With mild interest he had Uncle Jimbo explain how to cast the bait on the lure and how to reel in his catch when he felt the tug on the pole. And so they sat there, waiting for something to happen. Stan kept shooting glances at Jimbo; how could anyone possibly enjoy this?

"Don't worry Stan, we're bound to catch some nice rainbow trout for dinner tonight," the man grinned.

"What if we don't?"

"We will kid."

"But what if we _don't_?" Stan emphasized.

Jimbo turned to steal a look from the boy. "You know you need to stop with that negative mind-set you have Stan. Your dad was the complete opposite and is to this day. Your sister was a bit more open-minded when we went on our trip years ago."

"Well I do have more to deal with I guess. There are a lot of assholes in my life."

Jimbo shook his head, smiling. "Know what I think? That Prozac you've been on is just a placebo. At least, you should start facing your problems like a man. Head-on you know?"

Stan felt his grip tighten on his fishing rod as he knew what was coming again.

"Of course you know all the horrors I saw in Nam," Jimbo started. "Maybe enlisting in the military will do you some good? You'll come out a lot stronger than you ever thought possible. Look at your dad's dad, he was a Vet too. I could teach you all you want to know."

Stan was glaring at his fishing rode. "I don't want to be in the military. I never have."

"I think it would do you some good. I mean, well…"

"Why? Because I'm a pussy?" Stan yelled. "Is your answer to everything guns and killing shit?"

Uncle Jimbo looked shocked.

"I'd much rather get a job and go to college than join any branch. Sorry to say," Stan said roughly.

"But it could do you some good. You'll get your hands on weapons and get to operate tanks or Air Force Carriers. Think of all the action and adventure. I know you like adventure kid," Jimbo gave Stan a look.

True, he did, but he also didn't want to put himself in a setting where he could be killed. He was feeling angry and uncomfortable at the same time. Jimbo began talking again of how he'd talk to Randy and see what he had to say. It was always what his dad had to say about something, never his mom when it came to Uncle Jimbo. Stan was big on letting both parties speak when it came to relationships but he supposed by now he was too used to this to not care. As long as Jimbo wanted something as did Randy, that's all that mattered.

"- but you won't know that until a few years. But who knows, you might change your mind," Jimbo was saying.

Stan growled. "I'm not joining the military- can we leave it at that and drop the fucking subject?" He suddenly felt a tug on his fishing pole and gripped it.

"Whoa! Looks like you caught something there Stanley!"

With Jimbo's help Stan was able to reel in a large rainbow trout. Jimbo was smiling as he looked it up and down. It was large enough for them to split for dinner. He packed the fish and gear up and they went back to their camp site. Once there Jimbo took Stan over and set the fish down on a cutting board.

"I'm going to show you how to properly cut and gut a fish, sport."

Stan felt his stomach churn as his uncle scaled the fish and began slicing it up. He covered his mouth.

"Oh god, that's sick…"

Jimbo frowned. "C'mon Stan, I know you like seafood. You had to have seen something done like this by now."

Stan was holding his stomach. "No. My parents always made sure to prepare fish when I wasn't there. And in restaurants, it arrives to you already cooked."

Jimbo refrained from saying anything about his nephew's weak stomach. He was always throwing up at everything when he was little but now when he was to turn fourteen this year, he expected him to grow out of it by now. Even though he was a smart and sporty kid, he was still the same kid he was when he was five. Afraid of the same stuff and the same problems kept pestering him. A mature kid yes, but some things… well, made him think different.

The two didn't talk much as the fish fried over the open fire. Stan glanced over as his uncle cracked open a can of beer. Stan meanwhile took a sip from his Sprite; he knew his uncle wanted him to try the alcohol but he wasn't going to allow him to pressure him into doing so. Stan swatted his hand here and there as bugs flew around. Defiantly not an amazing day but he expected it which was the sad thing. Nothing but Uncle Jimbo pointing out his 'flaws' and what he should and should not do. Telling him to 'man up' and not listening to a word he said.

The fish was ready and divided onto two plates. They ate in silence.

Jimbo sighed. "So, I take it not the best day of camping today?"

Stan shrugged a shoulder. "No. But I told you already I don't really like camping."

"You did? When the hell was this?"

Stan glared. "Weeks ago when you told me you wanted to take me here in the first place."

"Now why would I take you somewhere I knew you didn't want to go?" Jimbo truly looked shocked.

"Because you never listen to me that's why! No one ever does! I know I should just shrug it off and not give a fuck by now but c'mon, I want to be heard at least _some_times. I've been in trouble and trapped in the woods too many times in my life. I've suffered two serious asthma attacks while camping. Too much shit goes on out here period for me to ever want to go camping again as far as I'm concerned," Stan raged.

"But you have to like the outdoors kid, you're surrounded by wilderness and animals and other nature crap you free-spirited people like," Jimbo shouted.

"Now you're calling me a hippie. Anything else you want to add to the list? I know I've heard it before but go on, I have all night." Stan was on his feet now.

Jimbo stood too. "Stanley you are behaving like a little kid. Why can't you be grateful I want to take time from my life and spend some time with you before High School?"

"Because you keep trying to morph me into your version of a son!"

It was very quiet now; the only sound that could be heard was the crackling of the fire.

"Either you start accepting me the way I am or you're going to quickly be out of my life once I graduate," Stan said softly but clearly.

"I'm just trying to pick up the slack from your father. He does a good job but let's your mother do too much when it comes to looking out for you. I don't have kids, of course I'm going to treat you and your sister like my own," Jimbo explained.

"You accepted she's scary as shit and strong as hell a decade ago. And don't blame my mom for anything; she has nothing to do with this."

Jimbo stared at Stan as he loomed over him. Stan shook his head.

"Screw this…" he ducked into the tent for a moment and grabbed his backpack that was inside.

"Where are you going?"

"To think," Stan said shortly before walking off. He could hear his uncle calling him back but he made sure to move quickly and soon enough he lost his voice. Honestly, he didn't know where he was going but that didn't matter right now. He just had to get away and clear his mind. Go off somewhere his uncle couldn't chase him down. He turned to the right where the trees climbed at a slope. He looked back, shrugged, and hopped onto the earth and walked the difficult angel nature had formed it. The land smoothed out soon enough and he found a large boulder to sit on. He knew it was pretty stupid to sit in the woods away from camp at night but he was too annoyed to not do it. The mind often makes the body do things without any part of it knowing.

A cold breeze tickled the hair peaking beneath Stan's beanie. He shivered and sat with his legs crossed. "Yeah, you're defiantly not going to be found here." Sigh. "Stupid really brain, why did you make me go _here_? I wanted to get away from my uncle, that's why…" he answered his own question. "You foresaw this whole thing. He hasn't changed, you just didn't really think about it much when you were younger. But this is getting ridiculous… you're going to be fourteen in a couple months, you don't need to put up with this anymore." He growled. "He's been treating me like his son since I can remember. I mean if he wanted one so bad he should have just adopted one! He is such a classic example of some 1950s era guy. He just can't accept how some things are in the 2000s. Just because he's been in the military, he goes hunting, he has a show about hunting, he likes guns, doesn't mean I have to."

The distant sound of an owl in the trees made the boy pause in his self-rant.

"Camping… what fun. I never had a good experience camping. I've suffered an asthma attack each time. I always get lost. Get attacked by bugs. Get sunburned. Dad always ruins the fun somehow. Mom always worries something bad's going to happen to me. Shelley's never any fun. Why couldn't we have just watched a movie at his house? Put something on the BBQ? Why this?" he slapped at his neck where he heard a buzzing.

The wind picked up slightly, the air a little colder and even though he felt stupid where he was, Stan made no move from the spot he sat at. He was stubborn and always had been, he knew he'd win this little sit-out; the adults usually caved in before he did. An hour past, then two. Stan had dozed off when suddenly he heard a very faint growl. Stan sat upright, knowing immediately it had to have been a bear. He froze in his fear, listening to see the direction it had come from. A minute later he heard it again due north. He hurriedly ran down the sloped side of the mountain down to smoother ground and was about to make a break in the opposite direction when he remembered camp was back north and he couldn't leave in the middle of nowhere with a bear threat to his uncle. Biting his lip, Stan made a frantic walk towards the sound of the growl. The growl was heard off and on and unfortunately, grew louder as the boy walked. Only when he heard a particularly loud snarl did he hear a human cry accompany it. Stan hid behind a large tree just as a large form was seen up ahead.

"Oh shit, oh shit," Stan whispered to himself. He dared to peak behind the tree and saw a black bear no closer than twenty feet. The tent and truck around it looked familiar…

"Help! Someone help! Oh god, help!" a man's voice cut the chilled air again.

Stan popped out in full view. "Uncle Jimbo?!"

The man appeared not to have heard him, he was too busy hanging onto the braches of a tree he had managed to climb, the bear snuffling around his belongings and occasionally looking up at the human. Doing some quick thinking, Stan grabbed hold of the closest branch and climbed up ten feet.

"Uncle Jimbo!" he called.

"Stan-Stanley? What the"-

The bear snarled again.

"Stan! Help! Help me! It's going to eat me! Oh god it's going to eat me!"

"Calm down! She looks more interested in the tent."

"It's going to kill me! It's going to kill me!" he kept moaning.

Stan knew it was up to him to get rid of the bear since his uncle was in too much of a state to do so himself. Since there wasn't any reception where they were Stan had to find another way to communicate instructions to the man without their phones. Thinking for a couple moments, Stan slowly made his way down his tree before slowly making his way to a tree nearer his uncle's. He was able to dive behind rocks and other trees for the bear not to notice before climbing up a tree six feet apart from where his uncle had managed to climb.

"Uncle Jimbo"-

"Stanley?" he gasped. "How-? Help me! It's going to eat me!"

"Shut up, she won't eat you; she just wants the fish we caught most likely. Listen, I'm going to distract the bear away from here. You have to do as I say in order for it to not come back, got it?"

"It's a bear! We're done for!"

"No we aren't!" Stan snapped. "Now listen: I'm going to attempt to get the leftover fish from the truck. Shh!" he voiced again when his uncle gasped. "I'm going to get the fish and bring it over to a spot a couple miles from here. She'll smell it and go after it. By that time I'll be able to come back here and we can leave."

"What if it doesn't work Stan?" Jimbo moaned.

"I'll improvise," Stan said with a raised brow. "What you need to do is not make yourself look like prey. Bears can climb trees and run faster than us, so don't try to do either if she spots you."

"But"-

"_Hush_! Make yourself look bigger than her. Don't make eye contact, back away slowly, appear the bigger person. Throw a shoe or something near her to distract her. Don't play dead."

"What? I thought"-

"I can tell she's a black bear, black bears seek out carrion, or dead meat. She sees you laying still it won't matter to her, it's something to gnaw on."

Jimbo gave a whimper.

Stan peered down where the bear was currently submerged in their tent, sniffing. The boy gave his uncle a fierce look.

"I'm going down."

"But Stan"-

But the thirteen-year-old was already going down. As quietly as he could, he circled around to the truck where the door was slightly ajar. He hopped in and grabbed the fish from the icebox, put it in his backpack, and ran off, not sparing a moment to look where the bear was or how his uncle was doing. Stan ran and ran to where he was sure he had just been an hour before, moping up a hill. Quickly, he took out the fish leftovers and put it on a large boulder.

Meanwhile, the black bear had grown bored with the torn tent and began sniffing at the tree where Jimbo was. He was still holding on with his life, afraid to move. The bear gave a grunt and placed her paws on the trunk. Jimbo knew he had to act fast if he didn't want the bear to catch up with him in the tree. He thought hard- what did he nephew tell him to do again? The bear sniffed at the tree loudly and without thinking, Jimbo took off his boot and threw with all he could. It worked- the bear saw and heard the boot hit another tree and went over to investigate it. This gave the man enough time to climb down but not without noise as well.

"Oh shit, oh god," he gulped as the bear faced him for a moment. Jimbo glared and huffed and puffed himself out to make himself look large. He faced the bear in this pose, quietly and slowly moving to his truck. A few more feet... at last! He slammed the door behind him and started the vehicle up. Just as he did this the bear took a whiff in the air and began running off in the direction Stan had gone. If Stan's plan was working, the bear could smell out the fish he managed to grab. "Hold on Stanley, I'm coming," Jimbo spoke and drove off onto a smooth path to find his nephew before the bear did. He spotted a light shining on the ground fifty feet ahead. He stopped the truck, his beams still on, and stuck his head out. "Stan? Is that you?" suddenly the small beam began to jiggle and get larger and the form of a boy was running, flashlight in hand. He hurried into the passenger's side when he reached the truck.

"I left the- the fish nearby and a couple snack- snacks I had in my backpack. We should go," Stan heaved.

By the evening of the following day, both Jimbo and Stan had been harbored with questions from rangers, park owners, news anchors, and fellow campers. All were amazed that the two survived an encounter with an adult bear without a scratch and after hearing Stan's side of the story, he was quickly being held a hero.

"Amazing! Thirteen-year-old boy saves uncle from bear attack! Perfect title for the front page!" exclaimed one man that worked for a local paper.

"If my uncle hadn't been able to distract the bear and get the truck to get me, I wouldn't be a hero," Stan tried explaining.

"Stan… you told me what to do if I had to face off the bear," Jimbo said in disbelief. "If it weren't for you I may have panicked too much for it to climb the tree and get me."

Stan shook his head. "You saved me too. I didn't know where camp was. I could have been lost in the woods with a bear roaming around for hours."

"You still told me what to do. You did the quick thinking and didn't lose your shit. Hell I've been in the army and have shot and killed all kinds of animals and this I freak about. You were great kid," he smiled and fist-bumped his shoulder.

Stan could only shrug and grin back in response.

Jimbo sighed. "Listen, if you weren't you… and didn't have the knowledge you do about animals… anything could have happened last night. If- if you want to do something with them for a living that doesn't involve hunting… you have my blessing kid."

Stan flashed his braces in a large smile this time. "Thanks, thanks a lot. That means a lot Uncle Jimbo."

Jimbo gave him a firm pat on his back. "What do you say going back home? Sure this will make the seven o'clock news if we make it in time."

Stan rolled his eyes. "I can already hear Mom crying about it and squeezing me when we get back. Shouldn't deprive her of it."

Laughing, Jimbo and Stan hopped back in the truck and started on the drive back to South Park.

_I am so glad to have this complete finally. I thought it was a pretty important kind of thing to write as I feel Stan would only grow distant towards his uncle's lifestyle as he got older. I've been busy fixing up my Harry Potter stories, that's why there's been a lack of updates for SP stuff. I love both and want to give them equal amount of attention, so just bear with me. As usual, any ideas you may want me to write tell me and I will see what I can do._

_Lots of love: Rose _

_February 28, 2014_


	15. This is Halloween

**THIS IS HALLOWEEN**

A/N: Sorry for the lack of stories but school takes up any time I have for producing fanfics. Even if I have free time it's hard to focus on the worlds of South Park or Harry Potter since I'm still thinking about school. Had some free time finally, and an idea. Plus with season 18 in full swing it was easier to transition into SP again. Have fun reading!

_October 31__st__ 2004_

"It's Hallaween today!" cried through Sharon Marsh's ears at eight in the morning. Sharon lifted her head to see her four-year-old daughter's face in hers.

"'Morning Sh-Shelley," Sharon yawned.

"It's Hallaween and I'm gonna go trick-n-treating today!" with that the girl hopped into the kitchen.

Only then did Sharon notice where she was. She apparently had fallen asleep with her face on the dining room table. When she did not know but why, she was soon reminded. A wail broke out and she reached to pick up the tiny infant in the car seat on the floor. Sharon yawned wider as she bounced her newborn son in her arms.

"Slept down here for a bit didn't you?" Randy asked as he passed his wife a moment later.

Sharon followed him into the kitchen. "What- what happened? I don't remember anything…"

Randy smirked as he got a pot of coffee on. "The baby started crying at maybe- four in the morning? You said something about walking around the house to calm him down but never went back upstairs. I'm guessing it worked since I didn't hear him after a while."

"Yeah, maybe it did…" Sharon shook her head a moment before sitting back down again and pressing little Stanley to her breast; surely that was why he was awake. Sure enough he latched on.

Shelley and Randy joined the breakfast table a couple minutes later.

"Mommy, where are we going first? Are we starting on our street or- or gonna go down it after the other streets?" Shelley asked, mouth full of oatmeal.

"Go- what? I'm sorry honey," Sharon yawned. Every day and night had been virtually sleepless since bringing Stanley home from the hospital on the twenty-second. He was born the nineteenth but had difficulties breathing on his own and gaining weight. Since bringing him home… all the hours Sharon had slept those two weeks would account to one full normal day before he was born. She could hardly focus or remember much and right now she had no idea what her daughter was talking about.

"Trick-n-treating!" Shelley yelled. Stanley flinched and began wailing again.

"Ohh… no baby it's okay, grab on again, it's okay…"

"Shelley you know not to shout around the baby, it makes him cry," Randy scolded.

"Mommy, answer me now! How are we gonna do trick-n-treating?"

Sharon's heart sank. Truthfully she hadn't given Halloween much thought since the new baby decided to arrive on October 19th instead of November 1st as her doctor so adamantly stated would happen. Even if she was still pregnant on Halloween she would have still gone with Shelley as she had the past two years.

"I don't know to tell you the truth honey… I think it's best I stay with the new baby…"

"Nooo!" Shelley banged her fists on the table. "No you promised! We are gonna go out like always. Just leave the stupid baby here."

"I'm so sorry honey but not this year. I'm sorry," Sharon's heart broke as Shelley made more sounds of protest. She looked to her husband for help which he 'thankfully' offered.

"Shelley, hey, what if we went to the store and bought a bag of candy just for you? That way you won't have to go out tonight!"

"Randy!" Sharon snapped. "What Daddy meant was he can take you honey."

Randy's eyes went wide. "Really? I've never done that… I mean I can. Hell, why not? I want to! I'll take you out trick-or-treating pumpkin!"

Shelley raised an eyebrow.

"Yeah. I'll dress up. We'll hit up all the best houses. All the _scary_ ones. If you think you can handle it," Randy winked.

"Of course I can! I'm not a stupid baby like the stupid baby!" Shelley pointed to her new brother.

"There you go. I can leave Stanley in his bassinet while I hand out candy. We'll all have (_yawn_) fun tonight," Sharon smiled.

Thankfully Sharon was smart and had purchased her daughter a Halloween costume a week ago. But herself and Randy included had not thought of what to wear. Randy had no problem heading off to Target to pick up any last-minute costume pieces he could find for the both of them. Sharon was less-than-impressed with his findings when he returned home.

"This was all they had?" she held up a glittery eye mask and feather boa.

"Sorry. But hey look! I found some face paint so I can dress as a vampire. I have an old black cloak in the closet. How's that for a two buck costume?" Randy smiled, waving the face paint in her face.

Sharon just sighed, hardly caring. She was so tired and knew it didn't matter much how she looked when trick-or-treaters showed up at the house. Perhaps she could just go as herself- overtired mother. She certainly looked close to Halloween getup with bags under her eyes, baby weight, hair a mess, and in pajamas day in and day out. She spent the rest of the day in her bedroom in-between feeding and swaddling Stanley and trying to get sleep herself. When dinner time came she packed up some items she would need downstairs while handing out candy so she wouldn't have to make trips upstairs and went to get dinner on.

"Rest your feet Shar, I have it," Randy smiled, getting out a pan.

"Mommy, what's the special Hallaween dinner?" Shelley asked, her cowgirl hat on her head already.

"Shelley, you know Mommy didn't have time to think of one this year…"

"Shelley hon sit back and enjoy what Daddy has up his sleeve!" Randy beamed, taking things out of the fridge.

"Aww, Daddy you burnt the bacon yesterday breakfast. I don't want your dinner," Shelley complained.

"Sit and watch your little Halloween cartoon with Mommy and before you know it- dinner will be ready!"

Sharon sat with Shelley in front of the TV while a preschool cartoon special called The Power Ponies Spooktacular Halloween Special played. A half hour later Randy bestowed dinner.

"Tonight is burger sliders made with bat meat, blood, and moldy cheese with a side of mummy fingers," Randy presented burger sliders and fries. Shelley laughed and dug in. Randy caught Sharon's eye and she had to chuckle as well. Six o'clock rang by and Sharon made sure Shelley's cowgirl costume fit right before kissing her cheek.

"Have fun sweetheart. Be safe you two!" She gave her husband a look.

"No one talks to Vlad the Vampire in that tone woman!" Randy said through fangs and whipped his cloak over his face in a mysterious way. Shelley laughed. "You'll be okay though?" he said seriously to his wife.

"We'll be fine. The baby will probably- hopefully- sleep the whole time. Have fun."

Sharon ended up in her bathrobe with the boa Randy bought over her neck and an old witch's hat she found in the garage on her head. Hardly a couple minutes after Randy had gone with Shelley did the first set of trick-or-treaters arrive. The knocking on the door woke little Stanley so Sharon hurried gave the kids at the door candy before picking him up and cradling him. Ten minutes later he cried out for he needed a diaper change just as the next kids knocked. She held onto the infant with one arm as she passed out kit-kat bars and Twizzlers with the other. And so it went- she hardly was able to rest her feet as she ran around checking on her crying son and passing out candy. It's not as if her body was back to normal either- it had been barely two weeks since she gave birth after all.

_Meanwhile…_

Randy was getting a kick startling passer-bys when he jumped at them with his best vampire voice. Shelley was enjoying every minute of it.

"Daddy! You're being funny."

"Am I? But I'm a vampire! I'm sccccary!"

Shelley rolled her eyes. "Nothin' scares me. But I like how you gots fake blood on your face. That's cool."

"How do you know it isn't real?"

"'Cause I saw you putting it on _duh_!"

"Hey let's hit up Mr. and Mrs. Testaburger's house. Haven't seen them in months, they give out good stuff there," Randy pointed ahead.

"Yeah! Let's go there!" Shelley ran up to the house that had skeletons coming out of the lawn and pumpkins lining the pathway to the front door. "Trick-n-treat!" she called out as she knocked.

Randy caught up just as the door opened. Mrs. Testaburger was dressed as the evil Queen from Snow White and had strapped to her a baby carrier complete with a baby girl inside.

"Little Shelley is it? You've gotten so big!" the woman smiled.

"Wow, you're the queen from Snow White! Cool!"

Randy smiled at the baby that bounced and giggled in the carrier. "Hey, who's the small fry?"

Mrs. Testaburger beamed and took a hold of her daughter's hand. "It has been a while since we met up hasn't it? This is little Wendy. I had her back in July. Life's been hectic but more wonderful since."

Randy made a funny face at the girl who laughed. "I have news as well then-Sharon just had a baby boy not even two weeks ago!"

"No kidding! How sweet. Maybe they'll be friends when they get to preschool."

"Maybe. it is a pretty small town."

The adults chatted for a couple minutes before Shelley tugged on her dad's cloak signaling it was time to hit the next house. Randy led his daughter around a couple streets before deciding it was a good time for some casual chatting.

"So Shelley, enjoying tonight so far?"

"Yeah, it's funny when you scare people."

Randy smiled. "Do you think Mommy would be doing that?"

Shelley made a face. "Naw. She'd just talk to the grown-ups giving out candy. She wouldn't dress as something scary. You should take me next year too."

"Really? That would be nice. But it sounds as if Mom might want to next time."

Shelley kicked a rock on the sidewalk. "No, she just said that but she'll be busy with the stupid baby."

"She might bring the baby next year. He'd be a year old."

At this Shelley kicked the rock again. "Great. Now trick-n-treating is ruined forever if the baby is gonna come every time."

Randy tried to rationalize her negative thinking. "Well I'm pretty sure Stanley will want to go trick-or-treating too when he's old enough."

Shelley didn't say anything for almost a minute.

"Shelley… you do know Mommy and Daddy love you just as much as we always have even if there's a new baby in the house, right?"

A scowl was now present on the little girl's face. "I don't like the new baby. He's too loud and it makes Mommy tired. Why did you decide to buy a baby?" she now whined.

Randy had to chuckle at her use of 'decide to buy.' "Well it's not really like that. People don't 'buy' babies. Babies happen when a Mommy and Daddy um, get together and make one. It's a grown-up thing, really complicated."

They had stopped walking now. "Then why did you and Mommy make one when you knew it was gonna be crying all da time? Why when you already had _me_?"

Randy frowned but knew this was a serious conversation they were having so he got to his knee and placed a hand on his daughter's shoulder. "Shelley, honey, sometimes parents want more than one baby. It doesn't mean they don't love their first; they just have visions of more than one kid in the family. They have a lot of love to give and want to spread it out with more kids. It has nothing to do with not loving you or- or replacing you. We will love you and your brother exactly the same."

Shelley looked to the ground and moved about a small cowgirl boot in the sidewalk. "You wanted it to be a boy huh? That's why you had anotha baby."

"What? Shelley that's silly. That's just silly talk." He rubbed her shoulder with a smile. "We can't control things like that. It's complicated again but… trust me, we love having a girl. _You_ as our girl. And Mom and I are happy to now have Stanley as our boy. It's just like that."

Shelley looked ahead where a group of kids were walking up to a particularly cool spooky house with flashing lights and scary music playing. "One more question Daddy… will the baby ever stop crying?"

Randy laughed. "It is annoying isn't it? Yes, he'll stop- eventually. Is that all you'd like to know?"

Shelley nodded. "Thanks Daddy."

Randy hugged her to him and pinched her cheek. "Remember, you're a big sister now. Stanley's going to look up to you so you have to show him all the cool things in life. Okay? Being older is pretty cool- there's a lot you'll be able to do that he can't. Even when- I dunno, you're fourteen and he's ten. You're still going to be bigger and get to do more. So it really is a cool thing to be 'big sis'."

Getting to always be able to do things Stanley couldn't? A smile spread on Shelley's face.

"C'mon, let's tackle this street then go back to ours, okay?"

A half hour later the two arrived back home. Sharon whipped her head around as she held the baby over her shoulder.

"Well? How was it?"

"It was so good!" Shelley said as she kicked off her boots.

"Really?"

"We saw some great houses Sharon. Guess what? The Testaburger's had a baby girl over the summer!"

"Did they? How sweet."

By 9:30 the house was quiet and mother and father climbed into bed but not before Randy offered to change their son's diaper and place him in the bassinet next to Sharon's side of the bed.

"You know what Shar?"

"What's that?" Sharon yawned.

"I have a feel Shelley and Stanley are just going to love each other."

Sharon smiled as she watched their infant let out a tiny yawn. "I hope so. Thanks again for taking Shelley out tonight."

Randy kissed his wife. "We had a fun time. Really."

He couldn't help but fall asleep with happy thoughts of bonding with his daughter and easing her into the idea of being a big sister. He had this parenting thing down just fine.

_Hope you enjoyed. I like to include little incidents of other characters being introduced such as the Testaburgers since this is a small town. Hopefully I will be able to produce another Halloween story by the end of this month but can't promise anything. Appreciate any ideas readers have, as always._

_Lots of love: Rose, October 5, 2014_


End file.
